


Chain reaction

by wilwarindi



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Communication, Constants and Variables, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Polyamory, Smut, established Mordecai/Brick, it starts angsty but it ends fluffy I swear, past Roland/Lilith - Freeform, post New Haven
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-01-18 21:42:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12396798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilwarindi/pseuds/wilwarindi
Summary: AU. Mordecai was the one caught in New Haven, not Brick. From then on, things change and keep on changing.AKA: the polyamory fix-it literally no one asked for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [biggestdisappointmentinwarfare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/biggestdisappointmentinwarfare/gifts).



> Events up until New Haven are basically canon.
> 
> Expect some self-indulgence here and there.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: Resentment. Bonding over awful things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: allusions at torture. Alcoholism.

Roland didn’t realize how late it was until Mordecai showed up.

The night cycle had long since began, and most people had turned to sleep. Sleeping during the day cycle was never as restful as during the night one, and most people tried to keep to it. But when people left, Roland could enjoy the rare chance of working in silence, instead of being interrupted constantly and asked for orders or opinions or to downright fix other people’s problems.

You’d think running a city in the middle of a losing war would take less paperwork than this, and you’d be wrong.

The flutter of wings startled Roland, and when he looked up he saw Bloodwing on the railing of balcony behind him. That meant Mordecai was close; Bloodwing hadn’t left his master’s side since they’d been reunited a few days ago.

Surely enough, Mordecai showed up at the top of the stairs a moment later.

“Hey,” Mordecai said quietly as he entered the command center.

“Hi.”

Mordecai gestured to the chair next to Roland. “You busy?”

Roland hesitated. The truth was yes, he was. But he was always busy, and he’d been at this for more hours he could count. Plus, he’d barely seen Mordecai since he and Brick had broken him out of the Hyperion prison.

“Yeah. But I could use a break,” Roland said, and closed the reports he’d been reading. Mordecai rocked on the balls of his feet, his gaze fixed on the chair but not otherwise moving. “Really, sit.”

Only then Roland noticed Mordecai was holding a couple bottles in his right hand, keeping them slightly hidden from view. Roland opened his mouth, unsure of what to say, and looked up at Mordecai’s face.

Mordecai cleared his throat and put the bottles on the table.

“I just paid someone to buy these for me,” Mordecai said with a smile that didn’t have any trace of humor in it.

Roland nodded, still not sure of what to say.

Mordecai had hit a slump after his breakup with Moxxi a couple years back, and he’d started drinking constantly for a while. Brick had helped him, though, and had managed to convince Mordecai to quit entirely a few months after they got together, over a year ago. Throwing away a year of sobriety was a terrible idea, but given Mordecai had just spent five months locked away in prison, Roland held his tongue and tried to think of a less blunt way of saying it.

“I need you to convince me not to start drinking again,” Mordecai said in the awkward silence.

Roland blinked. “Why?”

Mordecai’s smile held a little humor this time, but not much. “Because I don’t wanna start drinking again.” Roland looked at the bottles. “I haven’t touched them.”

“Why, uh, why don’t you wanna start drinking?” Roland said.

Mordecai scoffed. “‘Cause quitting is a bitch. Cause when I drink things are shitty and everyone hates me. _I_ hate me.”

Roland reached out slowly and took the bottles away. Mordecai didn’t stop him; he only rubbed his face with a hand and heaved a deep sigh.

“Why _do_ you wanna start drinking?” Roland asked quietly.

Mordecai’s laugh was bitter and brittle. “Why do you _think_?”

Five months. There were a few more lines in Mordecai’s face now, all of which spoke of suffering. He’d always been skinny, but he looked almost gaunt. His hands shook a little sometimes, Roland had noticed, except when he was wielding a gun - then, his aim was as good as it always had been.

Roland hadn’t asked about it. Brick wouldn’t have let him, anyway, and he hadn’t let Mordecai out of sight after they finally found him. Roland hadn’t asked, but he didn’t need to in order to have an idea of what Hyperion had put Mordecai through.

“You, uh, you wanna talk about it?” Roland offered, and winced internally at how awkward he sounded.

Mordecai looked away. “No.”

Roland tapped his fingers on the bottles. “I don’t know how -”

“Just -” Mordecai cut him off. He made a frustrated growl. “I don’t know. I don’t wanna talk about it, ok? I just want you to tell me not to drink. That it’s not gonna solve anything.”

“It’s not,” Roland agreed. Mordecai nodded. “You still wanna sit down?”

Mordecai moved stiffly and took a seat. He put his head in his hands and took a couple deep breaths.

“I’m so tired,” Mordecai muttered eventually. “I haven’t slept. I can’t. I can’t wind down.”

“Is that -”

“Yeah, that’s why I wanted to drink,” Mordecai said.

Roland nodded and wished there was something useful he could say to that.

“Have you - have you talked to Brick about it?”

Mordecai shook his head. “Can’t.”

Roland hesitated. His relationship with Brick was only on this side civil these days, and meddling in other people’s relationships was never a good idea even on a good day.

“Why not?” he asked carefully.

“Because it was - Because it was his fault, that I got caught,” Mordecai said. He sounded angry, but also like he was confessing to a deep dark secret. He sat back on his chair. “He never fucking _listens_! And you _told_ him... If he’d just stopped to _think_ for a fucking second!” Mordecai looked at Roland in the eye. “You think that, too.”

“Uhm.”

Roland did. New Haven had been a mess; things had gone to hell too quickly and too irreversibly, and they’d been lucky to make it out alive. But when Roland had found Brick and Mordecai near the exit tunnel, and he’d urged them to come with him, Mordecai had been ready to follow his lead, even before Wilhelm showed up. It was Brick who’d refused to listen. And it was his refusal to listen that had ended up with Mordecai making a desperate attempt to distract Wilhelm to buy Roland and Brick enough time to escape.

 _Roland, get Brick outta here!_ Mordecai had shouted over the comms. _I’ll meet you out!_

Of course, and Roland knew it even as it happened, Mordecai didn’t make it out. He got caught. But he did buy Roland enough time to drag a half-conscious Brick to safety.

Brick had refused to go anywhere with Roland after that, not until he found what had happened to Mordecai. But even after Roland (with Lilith’s help) managed to convince Brick to go to Sanctuary, Brick had refused to talk to him except to let Roland know exactly how angry he was and how much he blamed him for Mordecai’s capture.

Five months of this had left them strangers who had once known each other well enough to know how to piss each other off. It had gotten bad enough that both of them had gone out of their ways to avoid the other on most days.

Hearing Mordecai agree with him made Roland feel more than a little vindicated. But he and Brick had been somewhat civil since finding Mordecai, and Roland didn’t want to set things off again.

“Yeah, you do,” Mordecai said knowingly, looking intently at Roland’s face.

“I - Yeah, I do,” Roland admitted, “but things with him…”

“Yeah, I saw. And I’ve heard him talking about you,” Mordecai said, rolling his eyes. “But I can’t … I can’t _talk_ to him, Roland. Not about this. Not if it was _his_ damn fault they…” Mordecai trailed off. Roland wracked his brain for something to say. “I know he didn’t mean it, but Jesus Christ, Roland, how the hell am I supposed to tell him any of it and not start yelling at him?” He looked away. “I love him, but I can’t. I just can’t.”

“Alright,” Roland said. “I know… I know things are hard right now. But you can make it.”

“How?” Mordecai asked with a bitter chuckle.

“One moment to the next,” Roland said. He reached out slowly and laid a hand on Mordecai’s shoulder. “Don’t think too much about the future, just think about now.”

“I can’t stop thinking _back_. I can’t even sleep cause my brain won’t shut up about it,” Mordecai said, a note of anguish in his voice.

Roland thought quietly for a moment. “Ask Zed about it, maybe he can help.”

“I don’t do pills, Roland,” Mordecai snapped.

“Why not?” Mordecai didn’t reply, scowling down at his hands. “I - I don’t mean to pry. But that seems like a better alternative to alcohol. Those are actually meant to help you sleep.”

Mordecai looked away, and Roland removed his hand.

“Have you ever passed out from pain?” Mordecai asked quietly.

Roland’s stomach turned over itself. “No.”

“I kinda miss it,” Mordecai said with a brief laugh. “The relief. And being in prison, too. I hated it, but it was… easy. Not a lot of choices in there.”

Roland took a deep breath and tried to stave off the feeling of his stomach trying to crawl up his throat. “I’m sorry.”

Mordecai ran a hand over his hair. “How the hell am I supposed to tell Brick that?” he said. “He already saw…” Mordecai paused for a long moment. “They didn’t have to leave scars, but they did. On top of everything else.”

“Mordecai…”

“Sorry,” Mordecai said, shifting in his seat. “You don’t need to listen to this shit.”

“No, I...” Roland swallowed thickly. “Can’t say I _want_ to hear it. But I can, if you want.”

Mordecai shook his head. “Shouldn’t be throwing this shit at other people.”

“Hey,” Roland called quietly. “We’re friends. That’s what friends are for.” Mordecai smiled, sad but touched. “Sharing makes it easier.”

“Does it?”

“That's what they always told us, at least,” Roland said. Mordecai gave him a curious look. “In the Lance, people got burned out sometimes. Doing Atlas’ dirty work.”

“Did you?”

Roland nodded. “Eventually.”

“Is that why you left?”

Mordecai was perceptive. Roland hadn't forgotten about that, but he had forgotten that his curiosity wasn't prodding like Lilith's or whimsy like Brick’s. That might be the only reason why Roland decided to give an honest, albeit vague, answer.

“Not exactly. That came later. It's a long story.”

“And _they_ told you sharing makes it easier?” Mordecai said with wry humor.

“Not everything they said was a blatant lie,” Roland countered.

“Wow, you're defending Atlas. Never thought I'd hear that.”

Roland laughed. The teasing was better than the anguish, and he'd take it gladly.

“There is a first for everything,” Roland quipped.

“No shit.”

Roland tapped on the table for a moment, but couldn’t find anything else to say other than: “Talk to Zed, really.”

“Alright,” Mordecai agreed begrudgingly.

“And you can talk to me, too. Anytime.”

“Are you kicking me out?”

“No, no! Sorry, I -”

“I’m just messing with you,” Mordecai said with a smirk, leaning back on his chair. “God, you’re still such a dork.”

Roland pushed down the impulse to argue. He chuckled, deciding to go the self-deprecating route. “Yeah, well… five months aren’t going to change that about me.”

Mordecai nodded, still smiling, and it might have been worth it to put up with the ribbing just to keep it that way, to keep it light. Then again, light wasn’t Roland’s strong suit. The silence that followed was still awkward.

“Sorry for dropping by like that,” Mordecai said, quietly. “That wasn’t fair to you.”

“No, it’s alright.”

“Asking someone to, uh, save you from yourself isn’t fair,” Mordecai clarified, shifting a little.

“Ah.” Roland thought that over. “I guess. But I’d rather try to help than sit idly by. And you’d already made the decision not to drink, I just - I just agreed.”

Mordecai laughed and turned to look at him. “I guess. Still, thanks.”

He looked genuinely relieved, and it was a good sight. Especially, after the conversation they'd just had. It made the new lines in his face disappear, it made him look like he used to.

“I think I might have to kick you out now, though. I'm beat,” Roland said.

Mordecai put his hands up. “Sure, sure. Just as we were starting to have fun.” He stood up.

Roland stood up, too. “Come by tomorrow. Uhm, if you want.”

“Yeah. Think I'm gonna harass Zed now. Like you said.”

“I didn't say you should _harass_ him,” Roland pointed out, quirking an eyebrow.

Mordecai waved a hand. “I'm still gonna blame you. See ya, Roland.”

Mordecai patted Roland's arm as he made his way to the door. Roland watched him go, still somewhat worried. But what else could he do?

* * *

Roland heard Brick long before he saw him, as it often happened. Brick liked to talk with the Raiders, liked to mingle with them and be one of the people. Especially within Roland’s earshot, he thought sometimes.

Brick made his way upstairs, still talking loudly, and Roland braced himself.

“Hey!” Brick greeted cheerfully.

“Hey,” Roland replied, barely looking up.

“We’re leaving for Tundra Express.”

Roland expected it, and it still annoyed him. He was used to giving orders, to having people wait for his permission to leave instead of informing him they were. And all of them did, except for Brick.

“Alright. Good luck,” he said, a touch dryly.

“We don’t need luck. They do,” Brick said with a laugh.

“Where’s Mordecai?” Roland heard himself say before he got a chance to think about it.

Brick stopped in his tracks and turned around. Roland berated himself for letting Brick’s attitude get to him and for having spoken about Mordecai. He looked at Brick as blankly as he could.

Brick crossed his arms and tilted his head a little to the side. “He’s asleep.”

“Oh.”

“Why you ask?”

Roland shrugged. “Just wondering. Haven’t seen him in a while.”

Brick made a somewhat skeptical sound. “He’s fine,” he said and turned to leave again.

Roland kept his mouth shut this time.

* * *

Mordecai showed up several hours later, and dropped himself in a chair without even a greeting.

“Hey. You alright?” Roland asked with a twinge of worry.

Mordecai waved a hand. “I’m fine.” He yawned and rubbed his face and eyes under his goggles. “Whatever Zed gave me knocked me on my ass. Slept for like fifteen hours.”

Roland chuckled, somewhat relieved. He hadn’t discarded the possibility Mordecai had changed his mind about drinking, after all.

“Wow.”

“I only got up because I was gonna go back to sleep if I didn’t,” Mordecai said.

“You want a coffee?”

“Sure.” Mordecai didn’t move from his seat. “Oh, I thought you were offering.”

“Kinda busy here,” Roland said, pointing at the map.

Mordecai got up and stretched his arms over his head. Roland half-expected there would be a weird pop from one of his joints, but there wasn’t any, thankfully.

“What d’you do here all day?” Mordecai wondered.

Roland pointed at the maps and screen. “Watch. Coordinate. Give orders. Sometimes beat Marcus and Moxxi and Zed into submission.”

Mordecai snorted. “Sounds fun.”

“Someone has to.”

“You miss being out on the field? You spend more time here than in New Haven.”

Roland stiffened. Talking about New Haven was still hard, but especially with Mordecai.

“I do,” he said.

“But?”

Roland crossed his arms. “But Sanctuary works differently. And we have fewer people now, I can’t leave as often anymore.”

“Why not?”

Roland shrugged. He wasn’t sure he wanted to talk much about this.

“Who am I supposed to leave in charge, anyway?” he muttered bitterly. The answer was certainly _not_ Brick.

Mordecai watched him for a few seconds, then nodded. “You want a coffee, too?”

“Yes, thank you,” Roland said with no small relief at the subject change.

“You had lunch yet?” Mordecai asked on his way to the door.

“Yeah. Sort of.”

Mordecai took some time to come back, but he had coffee and food when he did: some skagmeat skewers and something deep fried that looked unhealthy and delicious.

“You only eat crap,” Roland said in a reproving tone, watching the food.

“Want one?”

“... Yeah. Thanks.”

Mordecai handed over his plate with a grin and Roland considered refusing it after all, but, in the end, took a piece of food without a word.

Mordecai poked around the office, examining the equipment and making a few questions here and there. Mostly, Roland preferred to work without other people around, but he could indulge Mordecai’s curiosity for a little while.

“I need something to do or I'm gonna go crazy,” Mordecai said after a while, looking at the map.

Roland thought it over. “We need some intel on Hyperion’s movements on the Frozen Wastes.”

“No, uh, I don’t… I don’t think I wanna be out there yet,” Mordecai said, his posture tense.

“Oh.”

“Thought maybe you needed help.”

Roland hesitated. He wanted to say yes, he did. Running everything by himself was hard and exhausting and frustrating. But he didn’t even know where to start handing over tasks; delegation had always been hard for him when things got stressful.

And also, Brick wasn’t going to like it. That or, at the very least, that would mean Brick would spend more time around the HQ than he did now, and Roland wasn’t looking forward to either option.

“Look, even if you just want me patrolling the street, it’s something,” Mordecai added, painfully earnest.

Forget about Brick, this wasn’t about him. Mordecai needed something to do, he’d just said it. And Roland would surely be crawling up the walls if he was in Mordecai’s shoes - he hated feeling useless.

“That could work. If you can handle guards and shifts, that would really be of help.”

Mordecai shrugged. “Sure. How hard can that be.”

Roland smiled. “Harder than you think. Let’s start with that, see how it works.”

* * *

Brick came back from Tundra Express late and covered in scorch marks, but grinning.

“Hey, Roland, catch!” Brick said as soon as he entered the command center.

Roland dropped his data pad, but managed to catch what Brick had thrown at him.

“What's this?” Roland asked, turning the object in his hand. It was round and smooth. “A constructors’ eye?”

“Yep, one more for the collection.” Brick looked around and was startled to see Mordecai leaning back in a chair. “Hey, Mordy.”

“Hey.”

Brick put his hands on Mordecai's shoulders and leaned to kiss the top of his head. “Whatchu doing here?”

Roland had forgotten how Brick's voice sounded when he was being genuinely affectionate. It was quiet and warm.

Mordecai tilted his head back to look at him. “Helping Roland. I was bored.”

Brick paused. “Oh.” He dropped another kiss on Mordecai’s head. “You wanna head home? I'm starving.”

“We had dinner already, but sure.” Mordecai dropped his feet from the table and stood up. “Night, Roland,” he said and patted Roland's back.

“Uh, night.”

Brick looked somewhat perplexed and Roland, for the first time in a long while, agreed with him. Mordecai was being friendly, maybe a tiny bit more than he used to, and it felt out of place after the way Roland and Brick's friendship had deteriorated. They hedged around topics and questions and spending too much time together by tacit accord.

Mordecai knew it, or part of it, and didn't give a shit.

It made it awkward, it made obvious just how strained things had gotten between Brick and Roland. Knowing Mordecai, he may be acting even more casual than usual precisely for that reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a more detailed version of the general background, you can read my fic Caught on Fire (though it’s not necessary) - this fic is basically an AU for that fic.
> 
> Because reasons.
> 
> The reasons being: canon is sad and I wanted a fix it, I wondered how things would have gone if Mordecai had been the one caught, and a friend suggested a threesome was a way for Brick and Roland to solve their differences, so here we are.
> 
> Comments are always welcome :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: Bonding over awful things (pt. 2). Talking actually helps (who knew?).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: allusions at torture

Mordecai came to the HQ every day, and, much like Roland had predicted, that also meant Brick spent more time around, too. But both of them remained carefully polite when they were in the same space, meanwhile Mordecai kept acting conspicuously normal, as if nothing was off. Maybe that would be enough to help Brick and Roland get along better. Roland was tired enough of their constant animosity at this point to give it a try, and so far it seemed Brick was on the same boat.

Mordecai hadn’t believed him when Roland told him taking charge of the guards was a lot of work, but he quickly changed his mind. Roland was a little amused and a little worried, and also, according to Mordecai, trying to backseat drive the whole thing.

“Hey, you gave me this job, you can’t take it back,” Mordecai said. “Don’t you have a shitton of other things to worry about?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Roland admitted begrudgingly.

“I’m trying to help,” Mordecai added.

“I know. And you are, actually.” He didn’t mean for that to come out in a surprised tone.

Mordecai quirked an eyebrow. “You’re welcome.”

Roland chuckled. “Thank you,” he said, and he meant it.

“Who did this job in New Haven?” Mordecai asked after a little while.

Helena Pierce had handled most things that had to do with the city, back then, meanwhile Roland had focused almost entirely on the war outside. Roland missed Helena; she’d been invaluable and strong and she’d steered him when he’d been at a loss.

“One of Helena’s people. Stevens, I think.”

“Dead?”

Roland shook his head. “Deserted.”

After New Haven, a few people had left. Roland didn’t exactly blame them for having lost their faith in them - the Raiders had spectacularly failed to protect them from Hyperion and many people had died - but the fact remained most of the planet was a killzone and surviving out there wasn’t easy. And also, losing people like Stevens meant they had less resources.

“So, dead, probably,” Mordecai said with a shrug.

Roland privately agreed.

* * *

Mordecai didn’t talk about his time away, and Roland didn’t ask. The topic was a minefield of all kinds and Roland didn’t want to set it off. He did wonder sometimes if Mordecai still wanted to drink (he guessed most likely yes), and Roland supposed he should ask about that at least - but there was no casual way of breaching that topic. Roland thought he'd see the signs if Mordecai started drinking again, and that should be enough, right? And hopefully Mordecai would talk to him again before it came to that.

For a couple weeks that was enough. Until the morning when Mordecai didn't go to the HQ.

Roland didn't think much of it at first. Mordecai never got there at a set time, and he'd never been punctual to begin with. But after a couple hours and no sign of him, Roland was getting worried enough to call.

Mordecai picked up after a few seconds.

“Hey.” He sounded tired.

Roland let out a private sigh of relief. “Hey. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. I was thinking I should call you.” That sounded like a lie, but Roland didn't interrupt. “I'm not, uh… I don't think I can make it today. Sorry.”

“Why?” There was only silence. “Are you sure you're alright?”

“Yeah, just didn't get a lot of sleep. I tried not taking Zed’s knockout pills and I couldn't fall asleep,” Mordecai said with wry humor. “Sorry.”

“No, it's alright. I was just getting worried.”

Mordecai chuckled. “Yeah, I can hear it.”

“Get some sleep, then. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Mordecai didn't say anything for a long moment. “It's a bad day,” he said eventually, his voice quiet.

Roland cursed inwardly. “Do you want me to come to your place?”

Mordecai smiled. “Really? You're too busy to get your own damn coffee most of the time,” he said. “I'm fine.”

“You just said you’re not,” Roland pointed out, not unkindly.

“No, I said it's a bad day. But I can handle it,” Mordecai argued, and there was more spark in his voice now. “I was just, you know, sharing. Don't freak out.”

“I’m not _freaking out_ , I’m only concerned.” Roland paced around. “You're sure you don't want me to go?”

“I'm fine. I just don't feel like getting out. And anyway, you got stuff to do.”

“It can wait.”

There was a pause. “Wow, you really _are_ worried.” Mordecai sounded honestly impressed. “I just want some quiet, Roland. Not gonna do anything stupid.”

“Alright.”

“Thanks, though. Really.”

Mordecai cut the call and Roland sighed. Yeah, alright, so he _was_ pretty worried, but it was hard not to be. Even with what little Mordecai had told him, Roland knew what he was going through wasn’t easy, and there were risks - with Mordecai drinking again somewhere in the middle. And having helped him once, now Roland felt he should help again.

But he did that a lot, didn’t he? Lilith had always told him he felt way too responsible for others, sometimes to the point where he forgot about himself.

Thinking about Lilith still ached, but a lot less than it used to. It was over a year now since she’d broken up with him, so it was only natural, but he still missed her - as a friend, as a colleague. He sure could have used her presence here in the last few months; he hadn’t had a friend he could count on since she’d left to hide from Hyperion.

Roland shook himself and turned back to his work. He had things to do and he should get back to it if he wasn’t going to go to Mordecai and Brick’s apartment.

He did call again a few hours later.

“Hey, have you had lunch yet?” he asked as soon as Mordecai picked up.

Mordecai let out a brief breath of a laugh. “What, you too?”

“Oh. Sorry,” Roland said. Mostly a reflex than an actual apology, because he wasn’t sure what that even meant.

“Brick just got here with shitload of food.”

“Right,” Roland said as he closed his work for a little while. “I was just wondering. See you tomorrow.”

“Hey, Roland. Thanks.”

Roland wasn’t sure what to say to that - he hadn’t actually _done_ anything to help - but before he got a chance to even start figuring out a reply Mordecai cut the call.

* * *

They didn’t talk much while eating. They didn’t talk much at all, lately.

Mordecai seemed far away, as he often did when it was just the two of them, and Brick pushed down the growing urge to do something stupid just to get his attention.

He wondered lately if maybe he should move out. Maybe Mordecai wanted space, maybe he wanted to be left alone. Hard to know for sure with him unless he asked, and Brick didn’t want to ask because he didn’t think he was ready to deal with the answer to that question.

Brick tried not to think about how much more at ease Mordecai seemed around Roland, but it was getting harder each day. Especially now, since he'd seen Mordecai's - genuine, grateful - smile when he'd finished a call with Roland little while back.

Brick had been trying to move on, to smooth things out with Roland a little, but this wasn't helping. At all.

Brick pressed a hand against Mordecai’s forearm, trying to be warm, trying to reach out with more than just touch. They didn't touch too much lately, either. Mordecai seemed a bit surprised, but he smiled and turned his arm over so he could take Brick's hand. Mordecai held it loosely, running his thumb over Brick’s knuckles.

Brick brought up their clasped hands and kissed the back of Mordecai’s hand. Mordecai smiled again, but he didn't hold eye contact.

* * *

Mordecai was there early the next day, but he was quiet. Roland didn’t say anything for an hour or so, but eventually he caved in.

“You alright?”

Mordecai didn’t look up. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Roland blinked, taken aback by the sharp reply. Mordecai sighed and leaned back on his chair. “Sorry.”

“I’m just worried. I can do this if you aren’t feeling well.”

“No. I need something to do, I told you,” Mordecai said. Roland nodded and looked back at his work. “I know you mean well, but it feels like you don’t think I’m up for it.”

Roland turned around. “No, that’s not what I mean -”

“I know. But stop… If I can’t do something, I’ll tell you, alright?”

“Ok. You know your own limits.”

“Exactly.”

They went back to their own things, but after a few minutes Mordecai stood up and went to the balcony without a word. Roland debated if he should follow and what to say exactly. Their teams were doing alright out on the field, so he could spare a moment.

Mordecai was petting Bloodwing, who was in his usual spot when Mordecai was at the HQ.

“What’s on your mind?” Roland asked quietly.

Mordecai shrugged. “I hate this.”

“Which part?”

Mordecai snorted. “All of it. It’s gonna take forever for things to feel normal again.”

Roland frowned and leaned on the railing. “You sound sure.” Mordecai shrugged. “I don’t think - I mean, this hasn’t happened to you before… right?”

Mordecai laughed. “What, getting captured by a giant, evil corporation? No.” Roland didn’t say anything. “Haven’t you had shitty things happen to you?”

“Not on this scale. But yeah.”

Mordecai turned to look at him. “Why’d you left Atlas?” Roland’s jaw tightened and he looked away. “Sorry. You don’t have to tell me.”

Roland shook his head. “It’s not… Wasn’t _that_ bad. But it was bad.”

“Alright.”

Roland closed his hands on the railing and tightened his grip until his knuckles hurt. “My CO, my superior, he got my unit killed. All of them, except me. Blamed me for it.” There was a pause. “It was a trap, and it was ugly. And I got demoted, I got punished for it, and he… He didn’t think I’d survive, and when I did he didn’t think I’d do anything about it.”

“That the Atlas officer you killed?” Mordecai asked.

“Yeah. Eventually.”

“He had it coming.”

Roland shrugged, trying to dispel the tension of on shoulders. “It was a long time ago. And I know it doesn’t sound like much, but it was… bad.”

“I believe you. You never talk about it.” Mordecai crossed his arms and leaned with his back to the railing.

“My unit was my family.”

Mordecai looked down. “I’m sorry.” He put a hand on Roland’s elbow and squeezed.

Roland fidgeted. “Like I said, it was a long time ago.”

“You say that as if you’re so old,” Mordecai said with a smirk.

Roland chuckled. “Right, you’re the oldest one around here.”

Mordecai huffed, mostly for show, and Roland laughed, thankful for the change in mood. He should go back inside, but he wanted to add one more thing.

“You’ll be alright, Mordecai. You’re not alone. You have friends and people who care.”

Mordecai seemed stunned. He smiled a self-conscious smile and shifted a little in place. “Thanks, Roland.” 

Roland nodded. Mordecai’s awkwardness made him feel awkward too. He’d meant that, and had hoped it would be reassuring, but he’d missed his mark, as he often did. Roland had never been good at putting feelings into words, especially when he was being honest; he was too blunt, too upfront, and it felt a little like he was smacking people in the face without meaning to. People flinched as if he had smacked them, too.

“I should go back to it.”

“Yeah, me too.”

* * *

Mordecai hadn’t left Sanctuary since he’d gotten there, so Brick thought it’d be easy to convince him to leave just for a change in scenery. It wasn’t. He had to say he wanted to show Mordecai something in order to get him to agree, and then only grudgingly.

Brick arranged for the hand off to happen on the bridge near Overlook. When they got there and found a small group of bounty hunters Mordecai scoffed.

“That why you brought me?”

Brick signaled for him to wait. He met the bounty hunters alone, paid his due, and came back all but dragging the prisoner to the car. The man’s hands were tied together and he was gagged under the hood they’d pulled over his head.

Mordecai watched the man’s Hyperion uniform and the retreating bounty hunters with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

“You just paid them for this guy? Why?”

Brick pulled the man’s hood off without a word.

Mordecai’s expression hardened when he came face to face with Shep Sanders. Shep squinted his eyes against the sudden light for a second, then looked between them with obvious fear.

“Put a bounty on him. Took them a while to find him.”

Brick would have been out there trying to find Shep himself if he hadn't been busy trying to find Mordecai first. And since getting him back, leaving Sanctuary for too long didn't seem worth it.

Shep shook his head, his eyes pleading. Mordecai watched him without a word for a long moment.

“Well?” Brick said.

Mordecai pulled at the gag, but it was too tightly tied. He unsheathed his sword and Shep took a step back, shaking his head.

“Stand still,” Mordecai warned him. He used the blade to cut the gag off.

Shep was shaking, but he only kept staring, wide eyed, and didn’t say anything. Mordecai sheathed his sword again and pulled out a revolver instead. He aimed it right at the middle of Shep’s forehead.

“Why?” he asked.

This wasn’t what Brick was expecting, exactly; he’d thought Mordecai would just want to get rid of Shep. If anyone had any right to kill the man who’d betrayed them to Hyperion it was Mordecai, after all he’d been put through since New Haven. Still, Brick had brought Mordecai here to give him a chance to deal with Shep however he chose.

Shep swallowed heavily and looked between them. “They…” He cleared his throat. “They hurt my family.”

“So?”

“They said they’d keep hurting them unless… unless I gave them the Fast Travel codes.”

Mordecai watched Shep closely, the revolver never moving from Shep’s forehead. “How? How’d they hurt them?”

Shep took a deep breath. “They b... They blinded my husband. They just pulled…” He looked away. “Right in front of me. They would have kept going.” Shep looked back at Mordecai. “Sledge killed my family, that’s why I wanted you to kill him. I couldn’t lose this one, not again.”

“Where are they?”

“I’m not gonna tell you that. Why would I?” Shep said, still scared, but he didn't sound like he was going to cave in on this one.

Mordecai lowered the revolver and took a step closer. “What do you think is gonna happen to them when Hyperion finds out we have you?” he asked in a low voice.

“They don’t know where they are.” Shep paused. “Wait, ‘have me’? You’re not - you’re not gonna kill me?”

Mordecai took a step back and put his revolver away. “No.”

“What?” Brick said, startled. “Why not?”

“How would that help? Is that gonna bring Pierce back? Anyone else?” Mordecai sounded tired and irritated. He turned and headed back to the car. “Nah, we’re bringing him back to Sanctuary. He might know something we can use. We can always kill him later.”

“He sold us out!” Brick said.

“I didn’t want to!” Shep chimed in.

“Shut up!”

Mordecai stopped and looked at Brick. “You can kill him, if you want,” he said with a shrug. “But I think you brought me here to let _me_ decide. Right?” Brick didn’t say anything, but he backed off. “Right. And I say we take him back.”

“Why?”

“I just told you. If we kill him, all we get is a dead guy. If we take him in, we might get something we can use.”

“You don’t really think he’s telling the truth!” Brick said.

“Maybe. Hyperion tortured me for information, why wouldn’t they do the same to him?” Mordecai’s voice was cold and he barely moved his lips as he said it.

A chill went down Brick’s spine and snuffed out any anger he felt. Mordecai had made it clear, and he was covered in a whole net of scars that sent Brick’s stomach crawling up his throat every time he thought about them for too long, but he hadn’t actually said the word “torture” yet. Not to him at least.

“Ok,” Brick agreed quietly.

Mordecai looked at Shep again. “If you’re lying to me about your family, I will kill you myself.”

“I’m not.” Shep looked down at his feet. “But I’m - I’m sorry.”

Mordecai ignored him and opened a line on his ECHO. Brick knew who he was calling, of course, and couldn’t help a stab of irritation.

“Roland?” There was a pause. “Yeah, we’re fine. We have Shep Sanders.”

Brick walked away from them, trying to push down the wave of anger and jealousy. Of course Mordecai would call Roland. They were bringing a prisoner and Roland led Sanctuary and the Raiders, so he’d have to manage things, from where to keep Shep to interrogating him. Of course.

_Of course. It was always Roland, wasn’t it? It had always been. Roland, who never did anything wrong, who was always cool and collected, who was as boring watching paint dry and had a penchant for passive aggressiveness when people didn’t do whatever he wanted._

_Of course._

* * *

They pulled the hood back over Shep’s head and told him to stay quiet. Every single person who’d survived New Haven had lost someone, and Shep would surely get lynched if anyone recognized him on the street.

Obviously, Shep didn't argue with that.

Roland was waiting for them when they got to Sanctuary, accompanied by one of the Raiders. She was one of the new ones, arrived at Sanctuary after the loss of New Haven. That made sense, Brick thought.

“Hey,” Roland greeted them. “We’re still figuring where to keep him. We’re taking him to the HQ for now.” He pulled Shep by the elbow and guided him a few steps away. The Raider steadied Shep on his feet by his other arm. “And thanks, Brick.”

Brick blinked. “Why?”

“You found him.”

Brick looked at Mordecai, who must have told him that, then back at Roland. “Sort of,” he muttered.

Roland looked somewhat puzzled by that, but didn’t ask.

“I’m going home,” Mordecai said wearily.

“Right. See you later?” Roland asked.

Mordecai shrugged with one shoulder. “Maybe.”

Roland gave him a worried look, but only said. “Ok. Take care.”

Brick rolled his eyes a little, but no one noticed. Roland was already escorting Shep Sanders away and Mordecai was making his way to their place. Brick rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.

Well, there went his grand idea, the idea he’d been so sure would work. He wasn’t sure if he’d overestimated Mordecai’s desire for revenge or just completely misjudged him, given how easy it had been for Mordecai to decide to bring Shep Sanders in. Brick was out of ideas now, and Mordecai still wasn’t talking to him. That left only one option, really. Brick followed Mordecai’s steps and went to their apartment as quickly as he could to avoid thinking too much about this. It wouldn’t help.

Brick caught up to Mordecai on the stairs. They walked the rest of the way to their apartment without saying anything.

Dusty was snuffling and barking inside the apartment when they got there. Mordecai went through the door first and crouched down to greet their dog while she wagged her tail hard enough to shake her whole body from side to side. Dusty licked Mordecai’s hands until she saw Brick, then barreled straight into him. Brick picked her up in his arms and let her lick his face.

“There you are,” Brick cooed. “You missed us?”

Mordecai started making his way to the back of the apartment, and Brick spoke before he got a chance to change his mind.

“Are you mad at me?” Brick asked.

Mordecai stopped in his tracks, but didn’t turn around. The silence stretched for a long, long moment.

“Yes.”

Brick left Dusty back on the ground. “Why?”

Mordecai turned to face him. “Why do you think?”

“I wanna hear you say it.”

Mordecai took a deep breath. “New Haven.”

“Thought so,” Brick said quietly.

Mordecai’s fingers tapped against the digistruct module on his leg. “You didn’t listen, Brick. You never do.”

Brick took a step towards him. “I’m sorry.”

Mordecai smiled without any humor. “Why, cause it’s your fault I got captured?”

Brick was pretty sure that’s what Mordecai thought, but it still felt like a slap to actually hear the words.

“Yeah,” was all he could say to that. Mordecai gave him an irritated look. “What - I’m sorry. Just tell me what to do. Please. Just tell me how to fix this.” Brick’s voice trembled dangerously by the end, but he didn’t care. He was sick of this, of the silences, the growing guilt and uncertainty.

Mordecai sighed and looked away. Dusty whined softly from her place between them.

Brick steeled himself. “Do you still love me?”

Mordecai looked back at him, and seemed actually surprised. “Yeah, I do,” he said. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t be living here if I didn’t.”

Brick didn’t let himself take a breath of relief until Mordecai was done talking. He nodded and felt as if a weight had been lifted; the knot in his chest that had been getting tighter and tighter lately finally dissolved.

“I’m so sorry, Mordy. Just, please tell me what to do. How can I fix this? How can I make up for it?” Brick said. Mordecai shook his head. “Please, just talk to me. You never talk to me.”

“I’m not sure I can talk to you without yelling at you,” Mordecai said.

“You’re not yelling right now,” Brick pointed out. He stepped closer. “And, so what? Yell all you want, just… please, stop this. You’re killing me.” Mordecai chuckled a little. Brick didn’t much care why; he hadn’t heard Mordecai laugh in too long. He carefully took on of Mordecai’s hands in his. “I thought you hated me. But I love you so much. I’ve never loved anyone like this, Mordy, so, please, what can I do?”

Mordecai’s expression softened, and even if he didn’t look exactly happy, he was at least touched by it.

“You thought bringing me Shep Sanders would help?” Mordecai asked, but there was a wry smile on his lips. “Really?”

Brick shrugged. “Maybe. I’m out of ideas at this point.”

Mordecai laughed, just a little, but it was still music to Brick’s ears. “You’re like Bloodwing: _I’m gonna bring you dying animals as presents_.” Mordecai rubbed his eyes with his free hand and thought for a moment. “I love you, but yeah, I’m mad at you. Not just ‘cause of New Haven, Brick. That's the thing, I’ve told you this before: you don’t listen. You never fucking listen.” He was serious now, and angry, but he was talking at least. “I don’t know if you just don’t trust me, or if you think you know better, but I need you to listen sometimes, alright?”

“I trust you. I just didn’t think -”

“Yeah, you never do!” Mordecai cut him off. He pulled his hand free of Brick’s, but he didn’t move away. “‘Cause, really? Roland told us -” Brick couldn’t hold back a huff when he heard Roland’s name “- he told us to run, and not kill the man that had supposedly killed Lilith? How did that make sense?”

“I don’t know! I wasn’t thinking, I was just angry.”

“Yeah, exactly! If you’d just stopped to think for a second, or if you’d just trusted me or Roland, Brick… this wouldn’t have happened.”

Brick looked down. He wanted to argue, defend himself in some way – even more so now that Roland had been brought up. But he couldn’t. He knew he was responsible, for the most part, and even if he didn’t want to hear the play-by-play of why, he had to. He had to if he wanted Mordecai to forgive him.

“You could have just run,” Brick said, and chastised himself a second later.

Mordecai threw his hands up. “Oh, sure, and let you and Dusty get taken. Just leave you behind, that sounds exactly like something I’d do. Or what you would have done.”

“You’re right,” Brick admitted quietly.

“I am.” Mordecai glared at him for a moment. “If you’re not gonna stop to think, I need you to listen. I need you to _trust_ me. ‘Cause I don’t feel like you do, sometimes.”

“I do trust you,” Brick argued. “But I’ll try to listen more.”

“Good. I just wish you’d tried _before_ New Haven,” Mordecai said, bitterly. Brick wasn’t a fan of recriminations about things long since passed, but he had that one coming and he could definitely let Mordecai get away with as many as he wanted as long as they could move past this.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen, Mordy,” Brick said.

“I know. I mean, if you _had_ wanted me to get caught by Hyperion we wouldn’t even be friends,” Mordecai said dryly. “I know you didn’t mean it, but it happened, alright? Can’t pretend it didn’t.”

“I know.”

“And I know you’re sorry, I know you didn’t mean for things to go that way. But I’m still mad. Been trying to get over it, but…” He smirked. “Well, I’m actually glad you asked, now that I think about it. Talking does help. Who knew.”

“And you didn’t yell at me,” Brick said with a smile.

“I didn’t.” Mordecai leaned his head against Brick’s chest. He hadn’t reached out to touch Brick in what seemed like forever, and Brick had to keep himself from crushing Mordecai in a bear hug in relief. He wrapped his arms around Mordecai loosely instead, not wanting to push it too much, too soon. “I love you, Brick. I do. I’m angry, but I’ll get over it if you actually try to listen to me more often.”

“I will.” Brick hugged Mordecai more closely. “I know I can’t - I can’t make up for it. What they did.”

Mordecai tensed, but didn’t pull away. “No. But that was Hyperion, not you.”

“Still.”

“Just… Just bear with me. I’m trying to cope as best as I can, alright?”

“I know,” Brick said in a soothing voice. “I want to help. I want you to be alright.”

Mordecai chuckled bitterly. “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen for a while. Months, at least. Years.” He sounded tired again.

“However long it takes.”

Mordecai smiled. “Sap.”

Brick smiled too. He leaned in close to Mordecai’s ear. “I mean it.”

“Yeah, I know how patient you are,” Mordecai said, his voice thick with sarcasm, but his smile had only widened. “That's your best quality.”

* * *

Roland started his day by checking Shep Sanders. They had found a place to keep him, and, so far, he was cooperating. Roland still wasn’t sure he believed him, but he guessed they’d soon find out if any of what he said was true.

Mordecai was willing to give Shep Sanders the benefit of the doubt, and Roland found it hard to argue. At the very least, and they agreed on this, Shep might know something useful, and if Mordecai wouldn’t argue against keeping him alive for now, neither would Roland.

Roland heard Brick’s voice as he climbed the stairs in the HQ and sighed internally. Things were better, but still awkward and it was hard to want to spend time with Brick.

“Stop it,” Mordecai said, a smile obvious in his voice.

Brick laughed. “Why?”

Roland stopped walking. He couldn’t see much of the command center room from here, but he had the sudden certainty he didn’t want to step inside just now. He tried to decide between going back downstairs or making his presence known.

“Don’t you have something else to do?” Mordecai said, and his gruff tone did a poor job of masking his deep fondness that seeped into every word.

“Not really.”

Brick and Mordecai had seemed as steady as always all in all, but there had been a quiet strain between them. Roland had felt it, but it didn’t compare to his own awkwardness around Brick, so it might have gone unnoticed to him if Mordecai hadn’t told Roland he also blamed Brick for getting caught in New Haven. Or, it would have gone unnoticed until now, because he hadn’t heard either of them sound so happy when talking to each other since New Haven.

It was a good thing, though. Roland wasn’t sure why things had changed so suddenly, but it was still a good thing. At the very least, because Mordecai deserved a little more happiness right now. It would help him.

Roland should go back downstairs and give them a little privacy. He was sure he didn’t want to walk in on them, at the very least.

Mordecai showed up in Roland’s field of view and looked for something on the work table with his back to the door. Roland let out a mental sigh of relief; maybe he could just walk in after all, and not stumble into something private. Roland took a few steps, but stopped again when Brick approached Mordecai and slid an arm around his waist.

“Hey, c’mon, come with me. I don’t like hunting without you,” Brick said.

Mordecai snorted and turned to smile at him. “Sure. _Hunting_.”

Yeah, alright, Roland should leave after all.

But before Roland got his feet to move, Brick turned his head over his shoulder and their eyes met. Roland flinched, and if that didn’t give away the fact he’d been standing there for far too long, nothing would. Damn it, he should have left well before now.

Brick looked back at Mordecai. “Yeah, _hunting_ ,” he said in a low voice and kissed him. He cupped Mordecai’s jaw with a hand, and tightened his grip around his waist.

Mordecai laughed and turned in Brick’s arms, his hands coming to rest on Brick’s hips.

Roland turned around quickly and made his way downstairs as quietly as he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always welcome :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: Recovery isn’t a linear process. Meet the OCs!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: I love my OCs from Caught on Fire, so I’m importing them here.
> 
> Warnings: allusions at torture, alcoholism.

Brick was still in the command center when Roland finally went back upstairs, and only because it was getting late.

“There you are,” Mordecai said as a greeting.

Roland nodded in their direction. “Yeah, uhm. I went to check on Shep Sanders before I came in.”

“And? How is he?” Brick asked.

Roland looked at him, just for a second and not quite meeting his eyes, and Brick gave him a cocky smirk. Roland couldn’t say he understood why, but he tried not to dwell on it right now.

“He’s alright. Cooperative.”

Brick snorted. “Of course. Anything to avoid gettin’ killed.”

“We’re nicer than Hyperion, too,” Mordecai said, crossing his arms. He didn’t use any particular inflection, but his words were followed by an awkward silence. “Any way to know if he’s telling the truth?”

“Not really,” Roland admitted. “We don’t have any intel on it, besides the Hyperion broadcast.”

Mordecai frowned. “Why not?”

Roland hesitated, trying to find a diplomatic way of answering. “You’re our intel guy. So far most of what we’ve done has been trying to get Sanctuary up and running.” Well, most of what Roland had done; Brick hadn’t helped much.

“That, or looking for you,” Brick added.

He said it as if that had been the only actually relevant thing, as if everything else Roland had had to do to keep them alive in the meantime was a small thing. Roland tried to hide his irritation and kept his eyes on the map, at the very least because Brick apparently hadn't said anything about seeing him upstairs earlier and Roland hoped to keep it that way.

“So, what, I’m the only one who can get any intel around here?” Mordecai asked, incredulous.

“Not exactly. But we’ve been busy. I guess Brick could check on it, if you’re still not up for being on the field.”

Brick’s eyebrows rose. “What about you?”

“I can’t very well leave my post,” Roland said, his voice a little clipped around the edges.

Brick shrugged. “Sure you can. We can keep an eye on things.”

Roland clenched his teeth. The offer was so offhanded, so easy, after months and months of Brick refusing to help run the city.

“Yeah, we can,” Mordecai agreed. “You could use a break from all this.”

Roland took a deep breath and pushed down his anger. “Yeah, I certainly could. Thanks, Mordecai.” Roland avoided looking at Brick and opened the map on the work table instead. “The Highlands should be a good place to start.”

“Yeah,” Mordecai agreed. “That’s where they caught Shep, by the way. Even more Hyperion activity than I remember.” He frowned and thought for a second. “I’d start there or in the Friendship Gulag.”

Roland snorted. The Friendship Gulag was still the worst joke he’d ever heard on Pandora. “Who names these places?”

“Jack, probably,” Mordecai said.

“Yeah. Sounds like something he’d come up with.” Roland closed the map. “You’re right, that’s a better place to start. You sure you can hold down the fort?”

Mordecai rolled his eyes. “Yes. Now get the hell outta here. And say ‘hi’ to Ellie for me.”

“Will do.” Roland checked made a quick mental list of his equipment. He needed to go to his armory for his guns and his Scorpio turret, but he had everything else on him. “Wait, does Ellie even know you’re back?”

Mordecai went still. “Huh. Guess not. I doubt Moxxi has told her. You can give her the good news.”

Roland smiled and opened his mouth to make a joke about Mordecai not being a good father figure for Ellie, but held back at the last second, only because he wasn’t sure how that would go down with Brick.

“Alright. Call me if anything happens.”

“Not unless someone’s dying,” Mordecai replied.

Roland chuckled. He hadn’t been out on the field in too long, and just the thought of stepping out of the city was enough to put him in a really good mood. Judging by the sullen expression on Brick’s face, the feeling didn’t extend to him.

“I’ll see you later. Don’t break anything,” Roland said and left for his armory.

* * *

Getting in the Friendship Gulag was easier than getting out, as it was with any prisons, but Roland found what he was looking for easily enough.

“Seems like Shep was telling the truth,” Roland told Mordecai when he got back.

“I heard,” Mordecai said. He’d kept an open comm line with Roland while he was in the Friendship Gulag, just in case. Given the fact Mordecai had been kept in a place much like it for months, Roland had no complaints.

“That will keep him alive for now, but… I still don’t know what to do with him later. Should we do a trial?” Roland mused. Mordecai shrugged. “Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Mordecai watched him for a moment. “Seems stepping outside Sanctuary did you good.”

Roland smiled. “Closest thing to a vacation I’m gonna get until Hyperion is gone.” Mordecai made a noise of agreement. “Sorry, that was bleak.”

“Still true. I can take over if you wanna be out on the field more often.”

“I’d like that,” Roland admitted. “But what about you?”

“I’ll let you know when I’m up for it,” Mordecai replied, a little dry.

Roland held up his hands. “Not rushing you. But I’m not trying to saddle you with a desk job if you don’t want one. We could use you out there, too.”

“I know.”

Roland searched for something to say that would improve the mood a little. “You seemed happier today, too.” Mordecai gave him a surprised look and Roland realized too late that that was a slippery topic. He shrugged. “I don’t know, you looked more relaxed.”

Mordecai seemed puzzled, but eventually smiled a little. “I guess. Things are better.”

“Good.”

“Talked to Brick, actually. About New Haven.”

That wasn’t what Roland would have expected him to say. “Oh. That went well?”

“Somehow, yes. It was easier than I thought.” Mordecai tapped his fingers on the work table. “Talking does help, who knew? He apologized. He's trying to make up for it.”

“Can anyone?” Roland muttered. Mordecai turned to look at him and Roland tried to backtrack. “I'm just - I'm just wondering.”

“He didn't mean for things to go that way. None of us did.”

“No, of course not.”

“So, way I see it, I can either stay mad and watch it all go to hell or try to move on.”

Roland smiled. “That's very mature of you.”

“No need to sound so surprised,” Mordecai said with a smirk.

“It's not surprise, it's… admiration,” Roland said with a very serious expression.

Mordecai burst out laughing. “Sure it is. You're so full of shit.”

Roland shrugged. “I _am_ glad things are better.”

“Yeah, that I can believe.”

* * *

Brick always offered Mordecai to come with him when he left Sanctuary and Mordecai always refused. Mordecai kept saying he was happy with whatever he was doing in the city, at least for now. They didn’t say the words anymore, Brick only looked at him expectantly and Mordecai shook his head.

Mordecai did want to go with him when Brick was sent to pick up Shep Sander’s family up on Liar’s Berg. Shep had cooperated so far; he had answered all their questions, but now he was asking for his family to be brought to Sanctuary. Brick wasn’t sure they owed Shep any favors, but he figured there wasn’t any harm in letting his family know what had happened to him, at least.

They found Shep’s husband by the docks, talking with some of the milling people and carrying shopping bags. Like Shep had said, there was a bandage over his left eye.

“Is your name Shen?” Mordecai asked him.

Shen startled and turned around. He looked at them, mostly at Brick, and nodded cautiously.

“Who are you?”

“Crimson Raiders. Your husband sent us.”

Shen’s face went slack and drained of color. He looked around like a frightened rabbit, his hands twisting on the shopping bags.

“He’s alright. He’s alive,” Brick said.

Shen swallowed heavily. “Is he?”

“Yeah. That’s why he asked us to come here.”

Shen looked down and took a few deep breaths. Brick glanced at Mordecai, who had gone silent and still, but couldn't make out much from his closed off expression.

“Where - Where is he? In Sanctuary?” Shen asked.

“Yes.”

“Can we see him?”

“Uh…” Brick looked at Mordecai again.

Mordecai cleared his throat. “Yeah, sure.”

Brick doubted Roland had agreed to that, but he saw no reason to argue - especially not if Roland wasn't going to be happy with it.

“Thank you. I'll be right back.”

Shen made a beeline towards the boats that were tied to the dock. He signaled a woman who was working on one of them to approach him.

“Mordy?” Brick called.

Mordecai didn't look at him. “I'm fine.”

If anything, that meant he _wasn't_ fine.

“Why? What happened?”

Mordecai kept watching Shen and the woman for a moment before answering. “Have you ever… Have you ever seen someone and thought ‘that could have been me’?”

“Not really,” Brick said. Mordecai rubbed his face with a hand. “How do you mean you could have been him?”

“They could have blinded me too,” Mordecai said.

Brick swallowed a mouthful of anger and guilt. “They did enough.”

Mordecai didn't say anything to that, so Brick slid an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. The tightly coiled tension in Mordecai's body relented when he hugged Brick in return - if not all, at least most of it.

Brick let go when Shen came back, followed by the woman from the fishing boat. She fixed them with a steady look.

“We're moving to Sanctuary,” the woman told them.

Brick stared at her. “What?”

She stared back. “We're moving to Sanctuary.”

“Who are you?”

“She's my wife,” Shen said.

Brick blinked, confused. “But I thought -”

“Yes, we know. It's none of your business,” the woman cut him off, holding up a hand. “We _are_ moving to Sanctuary for as long as you have Shep. You can take us with you or leave us to make our own way there, but one way or another, we are going.”

Brick felt the sudden need to stand up straighter. This woman reminded him very vividly of Pierce; she had the same type of commanding presence and no-nonsense attitude. Her words were no threat, they were a warning.

Mordecai crossed his arms, but he also straightened his back and fidgeted in place. “What’s your name, lady?”

“Iris. So, what will it be?”

Brick and Mordecai exchanged a look.

“Alright, I guess,” Mordecai said, sounding more resigned than anything.

“Good. We’ll be right there,” Iris said.

She and Shen left in direction of the town. Brick and Mordecai, meanwhile, made their way to the Fast Travel and waited for them.

* * *

Roland met Brick, Mordecai and Shep’s family out on the gates of Sanctuary. They’d decided to keep Shep out of Sanctuary itself to try to keep his identity a secret, so they’d locked him in a room in the tower next by the shield generator that protected the city from Hyperion’s orbital strikes.

Mordecai had explained that Shep’s family had decided to move in. Roland hadn’t been thrilled by the idea, and Mordecai had replied that if he wanted them to leave, he could try and tell that to Shep’s wife.

Shep’s family, his husband and wife (and Roland didn’t know how to think about that, so he didn’t), were holding each others' hands. The man looked nervous, the woman didn't.

“Hello. My name is Roland. I’m the leader of the Crimson Raiders.”

“We know who you are,” the woman said. A simple statement of fact. “My name is Iris, his name Shen. May we seen Shep now?”

Roland glanced at Mordecai who shrugged a little in return. Alright, he could see why Mordecai had dared him to argue with this woman. Still, appearances could be deceiving.

“You can. But, please, don’t do anything rash.”

Iris quirked an eyebrow. “What good would that do, exactly?”

Fair enough.

Roland lead them up out of the city and towards the tower. In New Haven, the city had been infiltrated and the shield had been taken down almost immediately, so in Sanctuary they’d taken the precaution to keep the new shield away from the city and the Fast Travel, so it wouldn’t be so easily destroyed even if Hyperion found a way to enter the city.

When they got close, Mordecai recognized the guard by the tower door. “Hey, Sam!” he called.

Sam smiled and waved in return. He’d been one of the people picked to watch over Shep because he hadn’t been a part of the Raiders before New Haven fell. Sam and Mordecai had met at the Hyperion prison and become friends, and he’d come with them to Sanctuary along with a handful of other prisoners after the break out.

Sam stood up straighter as Roland got close, and Roland nodded to him. “Relax, soldier. Everything alright?”

“Yes. Everything quiet. Sir.”

Mordecai approached Sam to shake his hand. “‘Sir’? They’re turning you into one of them,” he warned.

Sam shrugged. “ _Donde fueres, haz lo que vieres_ ,” he replied. “ _Y tú eres uno de ellos también._ ”

Mordecai huffed. “ _Sí, pero, ¿alguna vez me has escuchado decirle ‘señor’?_ ”

Roland stepped in before they could continue talking in Spanish. They liked to do that, especially in front of other people who, like Roland, didn’t speak the language.

“Sam, the key, please.”

“Right. Sorry.” Sam pulled a chain over his neck and handed it to Roland. On the end of it dangled the key to Shep’s room.

“Thanks.”

Roland opened the door and signaled for the rest to follow them.

“ _¿Quiénes son ellos?_ ” Sam asked Mordecai in a whisper as Iris and Shen entered the tower.

“ _La familia de este tipo_.”

“Ah.”

Brick nudged Sam. “Hey, stop that.”

“Not our fault you haven’t bothered to learn Spanish,” Sam replied, unrepentant.

“It’s hard!” Brick complained.

“So is English! But you don’t hear us whining about it.”

Mordecai joined Shep’s family, and Brick followed him a moment later. Roland waited until they’d caught on before knocking on Shep’s door.

“Shep?”

The reply came a few seconds later. “Yeah?”

Shen’s hand clasped of Iris’ hand tightly.

“You have visitors.”

Roland unlocked the door, pushed it open and stepped aside.

Shep was sitting up on his bed, a mattress on the floor, and rubbing at his eyes. The expression on his face when he saw the people at the door was completely stunned - eyes wide and mouth gaping

Iris was the first to move. She entered the room in a few quick steps, dropped to her knees and threw her arms around Shep's neck.

“ _Al-ḥamdu lillāh_ ,” she said with obvious relief. “You’re alright.”

Shep hugged her back and looked at Shen, his mouth still hanging open. Shen chuckled, took a shaky breath and joined them. He fell to his knees and hugged Shep as well.

“We feared the worst,” Shen said.

Shep finally closed his mouth, swallowed and replied: “I’m alright. I’m fine.”

“Mordy?” Brick said.

Roland turned around. Mordecai had backed away to press his back against the wall. His arms were crossed tightly and his shoulders were tense, curled up on himself.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll be outside,” Mordecai muttered. He made his way downstairs quickly.

Brick watched him go, shifted his weight from foot to foot, and followed Mordecai a moment later.

Roland looked back at the room. He could only leave them to it; he still had to get Shep’s family out of the room and talk to them about what came next. And what could he do to help, anyway? He’d just get in the way.

* * *

Sam gave Brick an anxious look when he came out of the tower. Mordecai was pacing a little further away, arms still wrapped around himself.

“Hey, Mordy,” Brick called, approaching him carefully.

Mordecai raised a hand to stop him, but didn’t look at him. “Just give me a minute.”

Brick stepped back to allow him some more space. Sam gave him another look - worried this time - and Brick shrugged in return.

“Everything ok with them?” Sam asked, pointing at the tower with his head.

“Yeah. Huggin’ it out.”

Brick watched Mordecai take a few deep breaths. He waited until Mordecai stopped pacing to move closer again.

“What happened?” Brick asked. Mordecai shrugged. Brick put his hands on his shoulders and squeezed. “They were happy.”

“Yeah,” Mordecai said, his voice raspy. He cleared his throat. “I guess it was just close to home.”

“Ok,” Brick said, even though that made no sense to him. But he didn’t need to understand. Hopefully.

Mordecai shook himself. He turned around to face him, cupped Brick’s face and pulled him down for a kiss - and ran his thumbs over Brick’s cheeks as he did.

“Sorry. I’m fine. Let’s go.”

“Nah, stay here with Sam. Be right back.”

“Ok,” Mordecai said, relieved. Brick kissed him again.

* * *

Mordecai went back to the HQ while Roland took Shep’s family to the place they’d be staying for now, and Brick went with him, of course. When Roland got to the HQ, though, Brick wasn’t around.

“He went to help Reiss on Three Horns. The Bloodshots ambushed him,” Mordecai told him.

“Oh. How’s he doing?”

Mordecai pointed at the monitor he was watching. “He just left. Still on his way.”

They kept an eye on the ECHO feeds. It didn’t take long for Brick to get to Reiss and wreak havoc in the Bloodshot bandits. That was Brick’s specialty, after all.

Mordecai chewed his thumbnail and stared at the screen.

“He’ll be fine,” Roland said. “They’re already retreating.”

Mordecai dropped his hand quickly, like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing. “I know. But I should be there, too.”

Roland took a second to reply. “Not if you’re not up for it.” Mordecai didn’t reply. “Why aren’t you?”

Mordecai shrugged. “Like you said, not up for it. I’d slow him down.”

“Then there’s your answer,” Roland said.

They didn’t say anything else until the Bloodshots had run away and Brick met with Reiss, who was a little banged up, a few scratches on his armor and face, but still in one piece.

“ _Thank you for that_ ,” Reiss said. “ _I lost my gunner, back there. Damn Bloodshots got him before I even saw them._ ”

“ _No problem. You all done here?_ ”

Reiss shook his head. “ _I need to get him back to Sanctuary. His body_. _Otherwise, yes._ ”

Brick pointed to the car. “ _Ok. Let’s go_.”

Roland sighed. “Another man down. Damn it.”

Mordecai opened a file with the list of Raiders. He scrolled through it until he got to the end. He stared at the list for a moment, then shook his head and closed the file.

“I don’t know who it was,” he muttered. “Stupid.”

Roland didn’t want to push, but he couldn’t avoid saying something any longer. “You want to head home?”

“No.”

“Don’t bite my head off, but are you ok?”

Mordecai gave him a rueful smile. “I guess I did the last time you asked me that. Sorry. I’m - Yeah, I’m fine. I don’t wanna keep throwing my problems at you.”

Roland shook his head and crossed his arms. “You’re not throwing anything at me. I’m asking because I want to know.”

“It’s nothing. Just a bad mood.”

“Then tell me about it.”

Mordecai sat on the table and took off his goggles. He wore those pretty much all the time, except when at his house or sometimes at the HQ in recent days, and seeing him without them still felt a little off.

“I shouldn’t have gone today. To see Shep’s family.”

“Why not?”

Mordecai fidgeted with his goggles, looking intently at them. “I thought it would be an easy one: give them good news, come back. Wouldn’t even have to kill anybody.”

“That didn’t go according to plan,” Roland said wryly. Mordecai smiled, still looking down. “But?”

“But… I dunno. It was… It’s hard to explain.” Mordecai looked away. “And now I wanna drink.”

“How, uh, how often does that happen?” Roland asked, as carefully as he could. Which was probably not carefully enough.

Mordecai shrugged. “Every day. Pretty much. But it’s usually quiet, I can ignore it. Right now, it’s…” He curled a hand in a fist. “It’s an itch. It’s just a loop in my head, and I can’t think of anything else.” Mordecai rocked slightly, and Roland realized just how tense he was. He looked as if he was in pain.

“But you won’t?”

Mordecai sucked in a shaky breath. “Hopefully.”

Roland clasped a hand on Mordecai’s shoulder and noticed he was shaking. “You should head home. Spend time with Bloodwing and Dusty.”

Mordecai shook his head. “I shouldn’t be alone. I’m not gonna drink in front of you or Brick.” He took a deep breath and tried to relax. “That guy, Shep’s husband, when I saw him it was… It was like… All I could think of was how they just used him like that. Did whatever the hell they wanted, and he couldn’t do anything.”

The detached way he said it was unsettling, his expression a little vacant. But Roland couldn’t say he didn’t understand. It was either that or not saying anything at all.

“They could have blinded me too, I guess,” Mordecai added.

Roland’s hand tightened his grip on Mordecai’s shoulder, and he sat down next on the table too. “But they didn’t.”

“But they _could_. They could have done anything, how was I supposed to stop it?”

Roland pulled Mordecai close with an arm around his shoulders - which was made awkward by the fact Mordecai was taller than him. Affection had never been easy for Roland, neither words nor actions, but there was no doubt in his mind he had to at least try to do something.

“It didn't happen. And you’re here, right now. That's... that's over.”

Mordecai shifted a little, but he didn’t try to pull away. “It’s not. It’s all I can think about, sometimes. Still can’t sleep.” He rubbed his eyes with the heel of a hand. “But the worst part is, I was doing better. Things were better, and now this, when it should have been an easy one.” He was angry, but his voice caught a little at the end. Mordecai cleared his throat. “Why can’t it be easy? Things get better and keep getting better and no step backs.”

Roland tried to think of something, anything, useful to say. “I don’t know.”

Mordecai smiled. “I hate it.”

“Yeah.”

Mordecai bowed his head, one foot bouncing nervously. “I didn’t tell them about Sanctuary. That you’d be coming here. But I thought… Sometimes, I thought if they’d just given me a bottle of booze I would have sold you all out. Not even the fancy stuff, just plain moonshine would have done it.” He laughed a bitter laugh. “How fucked up is that?”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” Roland said, forcing every ounce of certainty he could muster into his voice.

Mordecai turned around and hugged him properly - or as properly as he could without standing up. Roland startled at first, a reflex, but he forced himself to hug back despite his discomfort.

“You’re shit at hugs,” Mordecai said, but Roland could hear the smile in his voice, right over his shoulder.

“Lack of practice,” he replied automatically. It wasn’t just showing affection that was hard, he wasn’t too used to touching people in general.

“No shit. This was a bad idea.”

Roland’s stomach dropped and he backed away. "Sorry."

“Hey, relax, I was kidding,” Mordecai said with a smirk. “But thanks. Sorry I always bring this shit to you.”

Roland tried to shake his awkwardness off. He knew making him feel uneasy wasn’t hard, as a rule, but really, getting anxious about being hugged was stupid even for him.

“Hey, I asked,” he said. Still, he _was_ anxious, however stupid the reason may be, so he dropped off the table. “Stop apologizing.”

Mordecai nodded and looked back at his hands for a moment. He pulled the goggles back on, and it was as if he was putting a mask on, hiding behind the dark lenses. It was a sad thought, but there was some relief in it too. The worst was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Spanish translations:**  
>  Donde fueres, haz lo que vieres. Y tú eres uno de ellos también. = When in Rome, do as the Romans do. And you're one of them, too.  
> Sí, pero, ¿alguna vez me has escuchado decirle ‘señor’? = Yes, but, have you ever heard me calling him 'sir'?  
> ¿Quiénes son ellos? = Who are they?  
> La familia de este tipo. = This guy's family
> 
>  **Arabic translations:**  
>  Al-ḥamdu lillāh = Praise be to God/Thank God
> 
> Comments are always welcome :)
> 
> You can find me on tumblr


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: There be good days too. Escalation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: smut.
> 
> Things finally lightening up a little.
> 
> Credit to biggestdisappointmentinwarfare for her awesome plot point idea and dialogue, which I used as given for once because they were gold :') (And also for inspiring me to write this fic in the first place :D)

For Mordecai, waking up before Brick was unusual. He fell asleep later and so he woke up later too, and since Brick was out of bed almost immediately after opening his eyes, waking up alone was what he usually did.

Not today, for whatever reason.

Brick was snoring quietly against the pillow he was hugging to his chest and Mordecai smiled. Seeing Brick asleep in the morning was still endearing, probably because Mordecai rarely got to witness it.

He scooted closer. Brick’s back was wide, endless, and rose and lowered softly with each breath. It was the middle of the long Pandoran day cycle and Brick was sleeping shirtless, of course. Mordecai would have been shirtless too, normally, but he was still getting used to the sight of the scars Hyperion had left on him.

There were a few scars on Brick’s back too, and Mordecai knew the story behind most of them. He traced them with a finger, but Brick was the heaviest of heavy sleepers and didn’t even stir.

Mordecai leaned his ear against Brick’s back and listened to his breathing. He had the vague impulse to climb on Brick’s back and try to balance on it, as he sometimes did, but he’d never tried because that was dumb and wouldn’t work anyway. He did drape himself on top of Brick and chuckled when there was still no reaction.

There was one way to wake Brick up, though. Mordecai slid his hands down Brick’s sides and tickled.

Brick reacted immediately; he squirmed and laughed a silly, half-asleep laugh. “Stop,” he mumbled against his pillow. Mordecai tickled him harder.

“Mordy!” Brick whined, sounding decidedly more awake.

“Morning,” Mordecai said with a grin, but he stopped his attack.

Brick turned his head to watch Mordecai over his shoulder with a sleepy, blue eye.

“You’re mean.”

“It’s the only way to wake you up.”

Brick turned on his back and Mordecai crawled up on the bed so he could kiss him.

“You’re up early,” Brick muttered.

“For now.”

“Gonna go back to sleep?”

Mordecai shrugged. “Maybe. The day is young. Sort of.”

Brick smiled. He cradled the back of Mordecai’s head, tangled his fingers in his hair and dropped small, lazy kisses on his mouth.

They had had sex once since Mordecai had been back, the very first day, and it had been more an act of desperation that of tenderness - a raw need to feel and hold and find purchase. But after that, everything had caught up with Mordecai: the anger, the resentment, the insomnia and nightmares and the aftershocks of his imprisonment. They’d barely even touched at all for a while. Since talking about New Haven a few weeks ago they’d started touching again, to the relief of both of them, but hadn’t gone beyond cuddling. Mordecai hadn’t felt like it, not with everything else he was dealing with, and Brick hadn’t pushed.

Mordecai moved a hand down Brick’s side (and chuckled when Brick squirmed), over his hip and leg, and then up again, dragging fingernails over the inside of Brick’s thigh. Brick gave him a curious look, but didn’t react otherwise. Mordecai kissed him, caught his lower lip between his teeth, and grabbed his ass with a firm hand.

Brick hummed. “You sure?”

Mordecai smiled, warmth blossoming in his chest. “I love you, you know that?”

Brick smiled too. “I do. But I like hearing you say it. Might forget if you don’t.”

Mordecai chuckled and kissed Brick’s jaw and neck. Brick ran a hand slowly down Mordecai’s back, and then slowly back up again, making him shiver.

Mordecai straddled Brick’s waist and hummed when one of Brick’s hands grabbed his thigh and the other settled on his hip, Brick’s thumb tracing slow circles over his groin. Mordecai nipped along Brick’s neck before closing his mouth on the spot right under his ear. He sank his teeth there and sucked at the skin, and Brick’s grip tightened.

“Missed me?” Mordecai asked, lips pressed against Brik’s neck.

“Always.”

Mordecai searched his mouth and kissed him.

Brick’s hands snuck under his shirt. They trailed across his back and chest, grabbing and caressing; tracing the line of his spine, the bumps of his ribs, pressing on the soft skin of his stomach.

“You're just gonna lie there and let me do all the work?” Mordecai asked with mock annoyance.

“That's usually your job,” Brick retorted with a shit-eating grin. Mordecai had expected as much, but he huffed anyway. It was a matter of principle. “Unless you wanna switch.”

Of course, Mordecai knew this was for his benefit. Brick was letting him call all the shots - or, even more so than usual, since that's how things went with them. Normally, Brick liked to argue a little more than this, but ended up doing what Mordecai told him anyway.

“What, after you just called me lazy? Nuh-uh.”

Brick laughed, and he still looked stunning when he did.

“Plus, I think I like you on your back like this,” Mordecai added.

Mordecai slid a leg between Brick’s and rubbed against him. Brick hummed and rolled his hips, pressing kisses on Mordecai’s neck. Mordecai kept at it until Brick’s fingers dug in his lower back, trying to get him closer, to get more friction than this.

Mordecai moved back a little to pull Brick’s boxers down, and Brick sat up, leaning on his elbows to do the same with his. Mordecai kissed him again while they wrapped hands around the other and stroked.

Brick sighed against his mouth, rubbed his face against his, tried to catch on of his ears in his mouth.

“Wait,” Brick muttered after a few moments. He sat up completely and scooted back until his back was leaning against the wall. He extended a hand to Mordecai. “C’mere.”

Mordecai grinned and climbed on his lap, a hand coming up to Brick’s neck to pull him in for a kiss, the other enveloping him again. Brick slid an arm around his back and returned the favor.

Brick panted against his mouth. Mordecai pulled back enough to look at him through half-lidded eyes and found Brick watching him right back. The rhythm of Brick’s hand slowed, though his grasp was still firm, until it was almost painful, and Mordecai needed, _needed_ more than that.

Mordecai buried his face on the crook of Brick’s neck and bit down and sucked and smothered a whimper when Brick decided to pick up the pace again, little by little, until Mordecai was shaking like a leaf.

“Brick,” Mordecai moaned, then, louder: “Brick.”

He’d almost completely forgotten his own hand around Brick, so Mordecai tightened his grip and started moving again, quickly matching Brick’s rhythm on him. Brick groaned against his ear.

“Brick.”

Mordecai came first, trembling and with his face still buried on Brick’s neck, but he didn’t stop touching Brick until he came too, clutching Mordecai close.

They held each other, pressing lazy kisses against skin and hair, unwilling to move for a few minutes.

Eventually, Brick ran a hand along Mordecai’s back.

“My leg’s asleep,” he said.

Mordecai chuckled and lifted his head to kiss Brick’s chin, but he dropped off his lap. Brick stretched his legs out with a grimace, then flexed and stretched them again by turns.

Mordecai lied down on the bed and looked at him. “Ok?”

“I’ll live,” Brick promised. He lied down too, and Mordecai nuzzled against him while Brick pulled him close.

* * *

When Brick came back to the HQ with food for lunch Roland was brooding, which was hardly unusual for him.

“What's the deal with him?” Brick asked Mordecai.

Roland replied before Mordecai could: “We need more people. It's been six months since New Haven and we have less than half as many Raiders in a city that takes even more manpower to run.”

Ok, that _was_ a problem. “Ok. Any ideas?”

Roland seemed a little surprised by the question. “No. I mean, we made that radio advert. Other than that, I got nothing. I'll take suggestions if you have any.”

That was magnanimous of him, certainly. Still, Brick was in a good mood and could let that slide.

“The ECHOnet?” he suggested.

Mordecai snorted. “All I can picture is a pop-up add: ‘ _join the Crimson Raiders today and get a discount. Limited time offer_ ’.”

“Wow, you're a nerd.”

Mordecai bristled. “First of all: shut up. Second: what were you proposing exactly? A social media page?”

Brick laughed and kissed his temple. “Don't get mad, I was just sayin’.” Mordecai didn't relent. “And you're _my_ nerd.”

Mordecai elbowed him. “ _You're_ a nerd,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, the ECHOnet doesn't sound like the best idea,” Roland chimed in. “What else is there?”

“Uh, posters, I guess,” Brick said.

“We have those.”

“Which ones?” Mordecai asked.

“The ones with our symbol. The Raiders’ symbol.”

Brick frowned. “Why did we use the Lance in those? How many people you think see those and think we're just Atlas?”

“Atlas went down a couple months ago. Went bankrupt and fell apart,” Roland pointed out, a little stiff. “And their logo is different.”

“Not that different. And that doesn't mean we couldn't just be Lance.” Roland's expression clouded over. “We're not, but I bet other people think so.”

“So, what do you propose?”

“I dunno. Something that makes it clear we're not Lance, I guess. Or something that makes us more… real. Just a logo ain't gonna do it.”

“Like what, a face?” Mordecai asked.

“Sure.”

Mordecai looked at Roland and so did Brick. Roland stared at them in return for a long moment, then took a step back.

“What, me?”

“You keep saying you're the boss,” Brick said.

“And you have the trustworthy face,” Mordecai added with a toothy grin.

Brick would argue on that one if he wasn't aware his face was more fear inducing than anything, and also if Roland wasn't looking so uncomfortable.

“I don't… How is that gonna prove we're not the Lance?” Roland argued.

“The Lance never use people, just masks. And anyway, yeah, what we need is something more real. _Your_ face is real. We assume,” Mordecai said.

Roland sputtered.

“Anyone around here know how to do that? Design it or somethin’?” Brick asked.

Mordecai shrugged. “I dunno.”

“I'll go check.”

“No, wait, I haven't agreed to this!” Roland protested with a scowl.

Mordecai crossed his arms and gave him a level look. “Any better ideas? You wanted a new recruitment strategy.”

“This probably isn't even going to work!”

“Don't knock it till you've tried it,” Mordecai countered with entirely too much amusement. “Why not? What have we got to lose, anyway?”

Roland gave him a sullen look, but then made big show of sighing and shrugging.

* * *

Roland thought he'd warmed up a little to the idea of having his face printed, copied and plastered all over Pandora. He'd been around while the plans were made, with Williams taking it seriously, Sam and Mordecai poking a little fun here and there, and Brick chipping in from the sidelines.

The final idea wasn’t too bad, so Roland had grudgingly gone with it.

Whatever acceptance for the plan he thought he had went out the window when they went to take his picture for it - an occasion Sam kept calling “photoshoot”, which Roland absolutely refused to do - out of Sanctuary’s walls.

Brick, obviously, kept chipping in from the sidelines: “C’mon, a little smile ain't gonna kill you!”

Roland ignored him and tried to look dignified.

“Show some skin!” Sam said from behind the camera he was holding. Clearly, making him the photographer had been a terrible choice - but he'd volunteered, and Roland had just wanted to get it over with.

Roland scowled at him while Mordecai snickered.

“Yeah, that's an intimidating look!” Sam said.

Roland huffed. “Are we done?”

“Hey, Roland, turn a little that way,” Brick said.

Roland was fairly sure the request wasn’t meant to be helpful, but Sam was still taking pictures, so he did as Brick asked anyway. Maybe they could get something out of it.

“No, a little more. A little more. Keep going. There!”

“Now my back is turned!”

“Yeah. We’re trying to get your _good_ side,” Brick said. Roland glared at him over his shoulder and he saw Mordecai giving Brick a look. “Hey, if you’re not gonna smile, you can at least try to look badass.”

“How is this badass?”

“Like you’re walkin’ away from an explosion or something.”

“It’s not a bad movie poster,” Mordecai pointed out, amused, but with a disapproving note.

“Hey, it's a different angle,” Brick argued.

Roland sighed and turned back around. “We’re done here.”

“Oh, boss, c’mon, just a few more!” Sam protested, but Roland didn’t listen. He put away his assault rifle and left in the direction of Sanctuary’s gates, trying to suppress every memory of the last fifteen minutes by focusing on what he still had to do for the rest of the day.

* * *

Mordecai decided not to beat around the bush when he saw Roland again, so he just opened with:

“Hey, we got some good pictures in the end. That should do it.”

Roland still looked a little tense, but no longer irritated. “Good.”

“You done pouting?” Mordecai asked casually.

Roland gave him a look. “I wasn’t _pouting_.”

“Yeah, you were.”

Roland sighed and turned to face him. “I don't like pictures and I don't like the idea of having my face on posters all over Pandora. I don't like…” He searched for the right word. “Publicity.”

Mordecai’s eyebrows shot up. “Ok. Why didn't you say that before?”

“Because… The decision was made. And even if I doubt it's gonna make any big difference, you're right, we don't have anything to lose.”

“Ok,” Mordecai said, confused.

“The teasing didn't help,” Roland admitted.

“If you'd said that before, we’d have laid off.” Roland made a skeptical sound. “Seriously, give us some credit.”

“You, maybe,” Roland said.

He didn’t mean Sam, of course; he meant Brick. Mordecai took a moment to drown the surge of annoyance those words gave him, especially the way they’d been said, because if he just said whatever first came to mind he’d only manage to piss Roland off and make things worse.

“You and Brick are gonna to have to sort this out. I'm getting sick of it.” Roland looked at him in surprise, but Mordecai kept going. “Don’t look at me like that, you were talking about him. You used to be friends, Roland. Maybe try to remember why.”

Roland stood back a little and watched him carefully, and Mordecai raised his eyebrows, daring him to say anything.

Roland nodded without a word.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: Stubborn people are stubborn. Baby steps and huge leaps. Communication is hard but also worth it, y'know? Brick has a _long_ day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back! Special thanks to AStateOfMindOverMatter who loves Roland and let me rant at him about this fic, and that made me want to keep going ;w;
> 
> Warnings: Alcoholism
> 
> Still unbeta-ed, all mistakes are my own

Brick had been telling Mordecai about his expedition of the past couple of days, with added explosion sounds and descriptions of things that usually would make Mordecai either wince or smile a sharp, satisfied smile, depending on his mood. Brick loved that smile.

But as he got the fun part, there was no reaction, and Brick realized Mordecai’s eyes and attention had drifted off.

“You're not listening,” Brick said, trying unsuccessfully to hide the disappointment in his voice.

Mordecai blinked, but didn't look at him.

“Sorry.” He sounded irritated.

Mordecai had been in a mood lately: grouchy and distracted. Brick knew what this was well enough; he'd seen it before.

He leaned back on his seat. “You need to get out of Sanctuary, Mordy. Come with me tomorrow, we can do something fun.”

Mordecai wrinkled his nose. “Can't.”

Brick had expected the resistance, too. They'd more or less had this same conversation a few times already with no results. Mordecai didn't like routine, he hated to do the same things over and over, which was one of the things they had in common despite their many differences. But Mordecai got stuck when he was depressed, even if he hated it and he had a hard time getting unstuck - Brick knew that too. This couldn't be helping.

“Why not? You're bored here.” Brick continued in his most persuasive tone: “c’mon, we can just go driving, do whatever we want. No missions.” A wistful expression crossed Mordecai’s eyes. “We can go right now. Kick back a little.”

Mordecai’s expression was conflicted, and Brick knew he was finally getting somewhere. He moved closer and nudged him.

“C’mon, just you and me.”

Mordecai shifted around, as if struggling against the physical strain of the opposing wants.

“I… Ok.” And just like that, the struggle dissolved. “But I can't - I can't go on missions yet.”

“Ok,” Brick said. He didn't get it, but he wasn't going to let go of what he'd just won. “You wanna go now?”

Mordecai smiled. “Yeah. Why not.”

Brick beamed. “Good.”

Mordecai seemed immediately more relaxed as they stepped into the Dust. Ellie wasn't around the garage and Mordecai didn't want to disturb her (Brick suspected it was more like Mordecai didn't want to hear Ellie telling him off for not having stopped by sooner to say hi, but didn't argue), so they just headed out back of the junkyard and into the dusty hills that looked grey in the moonlight.

They killed a few spiderants on the way, until they found themselves on top of a high ledge, far enough away from the garage to see most of the stars above them.

Mordecai put his gun away and looked up at the sky. There was a rare, soft smile on his lips.

“Told you, you needed to stretch your wings,” Brick said quietly, trying not to rub it in too much. Although he _did_ want to rub it in.

Mordecai sighed, and his shoulders relaxed. “Yeah, you were right,” he admitted. “I know you're right, Brick. I'm tired of being cooped up in the city, but I can't… I don't trust myself to be out here yet.”

“Why not?”

Mordecai simply stood there, looking up without moving, for a long time.

“I can't have a mission depending on me. There are bad days, Brick, and it's hard to function in Sanctuary as it is.”

Mordecai barely moved his lips, his voice a low, raspy whisper. Brick knew it must be like pulling teeth - Mordecai hated admitting weakness, even to him.

“Then come with me. You don't have to be in charge.”

“Brick-”

“Not always. When you want to,” Brick quickly added. “Sometimes. But you hate not doing anything.”

“I'm helping,” Mordecai said, a little dry.

Brick knew arguing about that particular point would be useless and probably only end up in a bitter fight. “Sure, yeah. But it's boring.”

Mordecai made a frustrated sound. “You don't know what this is like, OK? Sure, what I do at the HQ is boring, but it's something. It keeps me going.”

Brick held up his hands. “I'm not sayin’ you shouldn't do it. I'm just sayin’, you should go out a little more, do something else, too. You're getting grumpy, stuck in there all day.”

Mordecai shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Yeah. Yeah. But, it's just… “

Brick stood in front of him and searched for his gaze. “It's just what? It's easy: you come with me and we blow a few pipelines, shoot a few robots. That's it.”

Mordecai didn’t meet his eyes.

“Why not, Mordy?”

Mordecai ducked his head and crossed his arms, his fingers digging into his own skin.

“I'm scared. I'm scared, ok?” he mumbled. “So many things could go wrong, and... I just can't… _do_ anything. I hate it, OK? Hiding. I'm hiding from it all and doing sweet fuck all. I _know_.”

Brick put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey.”

Mordecai shook him off, but he kept going. “I just have this stupid feeling, like… like things are safer if I’m home. Like, if I’m out here I’d jinx it, or if things went south I wouldn’t be of any help. It’s easier to sit back. I need it, I need to … get it together before I can be out here again.”

Brick stretched out his hands carefully, hesitated, then touched Mordecai’s arms. Mordecai tensed and tried to move away, just for a second, but eventually he relented and pressed his face against Brick’s chest. Brick hugged him, close but not crushing.

“I just want you to be ok,” Brick said.

“I know.” Mordecai’s voice was thick.

Brick pulled away to look at him. Mordecai pushed his fingers under his goggles and rubbed his eyes quickly.

“Tomorrow we go out, relax. Just the two of us,” Brick said.

Mordecai nodded. “Sure. Yeah, sounds fine.”

 _Baby steps_ , Brick thought. He’d managed to get Mordecai to open up and agree to go out of Sanctuary. It was a small victory, but it was progress.

* * *

Roland didn't mean to turn that conversation into a debate. He only wanted to tell Mordecai (and, because he was also there, Brick) what he planned to do.

“I found Tannis when I was out yesterday. Seems she's been living in The Highlands for a while.”

Mordecai seemed surprised. “She's still alive?”

“She's survived alone for years,” Roland pointed out, remembering the large amount of ECHOs she had tasked them with recovering when they’d been trying to find the Vault, all of which got progressively weirder and weirder, but which also detailed just how long she’d been on Pandora.

“Yeah, but when Jack said he has the Vault key, I figured they'd killed her.”

Roland had thought so, too, and had felt a no small amount of remorse over having given the Vault key to Tannis in the first place. But the key had been useless, and she wanted to study it, so why not?

“They didn’t. I told her she should move to Sanctuary and she refused, but I think I’ll go and bring her in, anyway.”

“Why?” Brick asked.

Roland sighed internally. “Because we can’t leave her out there, Brick.”

“You just said she doesn’t want to come,” Brick argued. “And she’s survived this long.”

“By ‘survived’ I meant ‘scraped by’. She’s not safe living on her own.”

“Yeah, but you can’t _force_ her to come here.”

“Yes, I can. Why shouldn't I? It's for her own safety,” Roland said.

Brick crossed his arms and looked down at him.

Roland wasn’t short; he wasn’t used to having to look up at people. Brick was the tallest person he’d ever met, though, and he sometimes took advantage of that fact by standing close enough to force Roland to crane his neck back to look at him. It was a small thing, but definitely an annoying thing.

“So, what, what she wants doesn't count? If she wants to be left alone, you're still gonna go there and drag her here?” Brick asked.

Roland spared a look in Mordecai’s direction. “You're saying I _shouldn't_ worry about her safety?”

Brick huffed. “No. What I'm sayin’ is maybe listen to what she wants instead of deciding for her.”

“I - She's not well, you've met her. She's even worse now. Leaving her alone would be downright negligent.”

“You never wanted to force her to come to New Haven.”

“Things have changed.”

“How?”

“Well, for starters, we’re not in New Haven anymore,” Roland snapped. “Second, Jack took the Vault Key from her - by force, judging by what she told me. We can't just leave her out there and let it happen again.”

“Why would it? They already took the key, what more can they take from her?” Brick countered.

Roland crossed his arms. “You really don't care about what happens to her, do you? Or anyone else?”

Brick arched his eyebrows. “I care about what she wants. More than _you_ do. She's weird and crazy, but that doesn't mean you get to decide for her. She's not one of your Raiders, what gives you the right to boss her around?”

“How is worrying about her well-being and wanting to keep her safe ‘ _bossing her around_ ’?” Roland asked, incredulous.

“It is when she doesn't get a say in what happens. That's how you treat prisoners or animals, not people.”

Roland scoffed. “I'm not saying I'm going to bring her at gunpoint, Brick. I'm saying I can't just leave her out there, so I'm gonna _talk_ her into it.”

Brick gave him a sardonic look. “Really? That's never been your strong suit, y’know. Usually you go straight to spitting out orders instead of asking.”

Roland often forgot that Brick could be cold and his words could be cutting. It was easy to overlook, given that Brick’s usual disposition was loud and laid back - careless, even. But when Brick decided to pay enough attention to have an opinion, he didn't mince words when he decided to voice it.

“If I do, it's because it's what's needed,” Roland retorted. “If no one else is going to take charge, I have to do it, don't I?”

“Says who? That gives you the right to make choices for other people?”

“If the choice has to be made, then yes.”

Brick shook his head. “You actually believe that.”

“Yes, I do. What's your alternative? Not doing anything? Letting things happen and fix themselves? That. Doesn't. Happen. Someone has to take charge, someone has to fix things.”

“Yeah, someone has to. But that someone always has to be you, doesn't it? And it doesn't matter that you go right to over people's heads and push them around, because you’re just doing your job.”

Roland frowned. “I don't know what you're talking about anymore, but I don't have time for this. I have other things to do. But I'm going to talk to Tannis and try to convince her to come stay here.”

“That’s not what you said. But sure, we’ll just stay here and wait for the kicking and screaming.”

“That is not what…” Roland trailed off. He huffed and turned to Mordecai. “Am I supposed to not do anything, when it was our fault Hyperion…went after her?” Roland asked, barely stopping himself in time from using the word “torture”, although he doubted it had been a subtle thing.

Brick narrowed his eyes. “It’s not _our_ fault what _Jack_ decides to do.” He turned to Mordecai, too. “But forcing her to come here, it’s not gonna make it better.”

Mordecai didn’t say anything; he only watched them for a long moment with his arms crossed. His expression was unreadable.

“... Seriously?”

Roland blinked, suddenly aware of how long he and Brick had been arguing. Brick looked at him, and he seemed to be thinking the same thing.

Mordecai uncrossed his arms. “Ok, you know what? I’m done. Whatever the hell _this_ is -” he pointed at Roland and Brick by turns “- it’s stupid. I have no idea why you’re so pissed at each other, but seriously, this is stupid. And I’m done playing along.” He paused for a second. “‘Cause lately you’re trying to drag _me_ into this. Like you’re trying to get me to take sides? Be your referee or something? And nope, I’m not doing that anymore. You’re both being idiots.”

Brick fidgeted. “Mordy -”

“No, shut up. You listen to me now,” Mordecai cut him off, pointing a finger directly at Brick’s face. Brick closed his mouth. “You need to fix this. We’re barely getting anything done these days, and you two being at each other's’ throats isn’t helping. Actually, I think that’s the whole damn problem. ‘Cause when you work together, we get shit done, but like this?” He opened up his arms in an exasperated gesture.

“We _are_ getting things done -” Roland interjected.

“I said shut up,” Mordecai snapped. “Everything is a fucking argument with you two lately, every little thing, and that’s just - it’s stupid. So, you need to stop it and grow. The fuck. Up. Both of you.”

He turned to look at Brick, who stood up a little straighter. “You talked to me. You can talk to him.” It wasn’t a suggestion. “I’ll see you at home.”

Mordecai left, and a painfully awkward silence filled his place. Brick and Roland stood around, not looking at each other.

Eventually, Roland steeled himself and cleared his throat. “He, uh… he may have a point.”

Brick gave him an unimpressed look. “I know.”

Roland sighed. “I don't know about you, but I'd be happy to stop doing this.”

Brick scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he agreed. “It's getting old.”

They eyed each other warily, trying to figure how to begin, or what to say at all.

“This started in New Haven, right?” Roland eventually said, splaying his hands on the table. Starting at the beginning was the easiest way to do this, he figured.

“Yeah.”

The short, clipped answer didn't make this any easier, but Roland kept going. What else could he do?

“You know I'm sorry, right? You have to know I didn’t mean for things to happen that way.”

Brick looked surprised. “What? What ‘things’?” He frowned and paused for a moment. “You mean Mordy?”

Roland shrugged a little defensively. “Yeah. I never meant for anyone to get hurt.”

Brick scoffed. “That wasn’t your fault.”

Roland opened his mouth and closed it again. “Wait, what? I thought - I thought you said it was _my_ fault. Right after it happened.”

Brick shuffled his feet. “I… Yeah, I did. But it wasn’t. You know it wasn’t.”

“I don’t…”

“You _know_ it wasn’t your fault,” Brick repeated, giving him a look. “It was mine.”

Roland knew he was gaping slightly, but he was too busy trying to wrap his head around Brick’s words and his easy dismissal of what Roland assumed was the whole reason he was angry. Brick wouldn’t lie about this, obviously, but it still seemed hard to believe, after so long.

“Then what - Why is this…” He trailed off. “Then why the hell are you mad at me?”

“Why? ‘Cause you never gave a damn about gettin’ Mordy back. You just didn't care,” Brick said.

Roland stared at him. “I never…? Of course I did!”

“Did you? ‘Cause you sure as hell never did anything about it.”

“I helped you. Every time you went into a Hyperion work camp or prison…”

“Not _every_ time.” Brick cut him off.

Roland rolled his eyes. “ _Most_ times,” he amended, though he didn't think the distinction was relevant. “As often as I could, and you didn't even want my help to begin with.”

“I mean, if you didn't _wanna_ help...”

“You keep saying that. Why wouldn't I want to help you?”

“I dunno. But you never stopped after New Haven. All you did was keep pushing; pushing us to come here, to build up Sanctuary, meanwhile Hyperion had Mordy and you _didn’t do anything_ about it,” Brick said. “You didn’t give a shit.”

“I had other things to do!” Roland argued. “There was _work_ to do -”

“More important than getting a friend back from Hyperion? Yeah, I bet.” Brick narrowed his eyes. “That’s the thing about you: you always got something more important to do. You don't care, and then you say you do.”

There was an echo of Lilith’s words in that statement that caught Roland off guard, even if the premise didn’t make any sense to him. He chose his friends over other people, over his work and himself, even when he knew it would weigh on him afterwards - perhaps not as often as his friends would like, but more often than he had to.

“Yes, I did. I needed to keep us alive. You and me, and the near-hundred people who live in Sanctuary. I had to keep us fed and safe, make this city habitable and organize things here before people died, the Bloodshots managed to get back in or Hyperion caught up with us.” Brick opened his mouth, so Roland hurried to add: “I figured, since you were always out and you didn’t want my help, I could try to get the city running. It wasn’t easy. But someone had to do it, because the only other option was to leave us unprotected, like fish in a barrel for Hyperion to moonshot us all to hell.”

Brick huffed. “You could have left someone else in charge and helped me. Or done anything more than just sitting here.”

“I _tried_. As soon as I could, as soon as the shield was up and there was some order, I tried to help you. You told me to go to hell.”

Brick glared at him, but he didn’t say anything. Roland could only hope that meant he was finally listening to him and trying to see things his way.

“I tried, several times, to help you,” he said. “And when you let me go with you, you barely talked to me. Meanwhile, I had to run the whole city on my own, organize everything, keep things running, and even when you were here, you didn’t help me with it.”

“I had something else to do.”

“So did I,” said Roland. “You never thought maybe I could have helped you more often if you had lifted a finger to organize things around here? Split the work to make it easier? I would’ve had more time to get out there.”

Judging by Brick’s expression, he hadn’t considered that. “Would you?” he asked, a touch skeptical.

“Of course I would have! But you were never here, so I could only leave the city for so long. We could’ve split the work in here and out there.”

Brick watched him for a moment, as if trying to solve a problem in his head. He seemed to have cooled off somewhat.

“You never said that,” he pointed out eventually. Roland gave him an incredulous look. “No, you didn’t. You never offered me that, never said that was an option.”

“Of course it was,” Roland said, frustrated. “Wasn’t it obvious?”

“It wasn’t. You were here all day while I was out there, that was all I knew.”

“You weren’t talking to me.”

“Neither were you! But I sure as hell would have listened to that,” Brick retorted. “If you had a plan, _any_ plan, I would've listened to it.”

Now it was Roland who watched Brick closely and considered his words. The vehemence in his voice, the edge of desperation, it gave him pause. Brick had wound down significantly in the month since they’d found Mordecai, but back then he always looked a breath away from snapping someone’s neck - especially Roland’s. That was what he remembered the most: Brick being angry all the time.

“You didn’t seem very receptive to anything I had to say.”

“Yeah, excuse me for not being very rational when Hyperion had my boyfriend,” Brick snapped. “I didn't know what they were doing to him or how long they were gonna keep him alive. I had no idea what to do, but I had to try _something_! How the hell was I supposed to just _know_ you wanted to help?”

It took Roland a couple seconds to fully take that in.

He’d known, of course, that Brick hadn’t been in his right mind after New Haven. No one in his place would’ve been, and Brick had never been the kind to keep a cool head, even on a good day. Roland had known that, and he’d known he was the one who had to be rational in that situation (as he often was); he _had_ to be the level headed one if he wanted things to work, and part of being level headed was… talking. Reaching out. Getting over himself and his own pride, and have a conversation to solve their differences and find some sort of agreement.

He hadn’t done any of those things.

And he could dig in his heels now, again, and argue, again, that of course he’d wanted to help, there was no reason why he wouldn’t have... but that wouldn’t get them anywhere. They were only talking in circles about what each of them had assumed the other had wanted and thought, but they weren’t _listening_.

There was only one way to get off this merry-go-round.

“You’re right,” Roland said, “you couldn’t just have known that I wanted to help you. You could have _asked_ ,” he added, because... honestly. “But I also didn’t _say_ it.”

Brick stared at him, more surprised than anything. Roland had sort of expected Brick to gloat in the fact he’d been told he was right, but there was no triumph on his face.

They had been at this for months now, and the realization that what they’d needed to do was just try to talk to each other and _say_ what they’d been thinking seemed ridiculous, but there it was. Roland prided himself on being mature, on being reasonable and level headed, and he’d failed to be all of those things on a spectacular level.

“So, you thought I didn’t wanna help you find Mordecai. I thought you didn’t wanna help me run this city,” he summarized. Both those things sounded equally stupid when he said them like that, and they probably were. “Would you have helped me run Sanctuary?”

Brick shrugged. “Sure. Not at first, but… After a while, I didn’t know what else to do,” he said darkly, glaring down at the floor. “Thought I was gonna go crazy.”

Roland felt very, very stupid all of a sudden. He’d assumed Brick was just being selfish, wilfully refusing to do his part. Why? Why had he jumped to that conclusion so easily? And why had he refused to confront him and chosen to just keep seething silently?

Brick shook himself. “You never asked for my help to run things. You just took over.”

Roland tried his damndest to remember a single occasion when he’d said those words and came up empty handed. He’d given Brick orders to get him to Sanctuary, to assist them in clearing out the Bloodshots and rebuilding the city, but he’d never actually asked to share the responsibilities of leading.

“No, I didn’t,” he admitted begrudgingly.

Brick opened his mouth but didn’t say anything at first. Roland expected him to point out that was exactly the same he’d accused Brick of doing, but instead he said:

“You - You think we could have found him sooner? If we’d worked together.”

Just by the tone of his voice, it was clear he thought he was right and wished that he wasn’t.

Roland hesitated for a long moment. What was he supposed to say to that? Empty reassurances weren't Roland's style; he didn't appreciate being lied to, even if it was meant well, and he didn't do it to others if he could help it. Plus, he knew that exact same thought would haunt him for a long time to come.

“I don’t know,” he said, and it was true in the most technical of ways. “Maybe.”

Brick nodded and looked away. Clearly, he'd taken that as a confirmation.

“Look, Brick, I really don't know,” Roland said. “I didn't have any more ideas than you for where to look or what to do. I would have told you if I had.”

Brick nodded again, but Roland didn't think he'd paid any attention to what he was saying. Brick crossed his arms and took a deep breath.

“I just wanted to find him.”

He looked up and the raw emotion in his eyes caught Roland completely off guard. For months, all he'd seen from Brick was anger and indifference, and he’d forgotten just how much of Brick’s heart was worn on his sleeve and on his face.

That wasn’t how Roland operated. He always kept his feelings pushed down, tightly wrapped up and contained. Other people’s feelings made Roland uncomfortable because he’d never really been comfortable with his own, and seeing them on display like this, so openly, it made him want to recoil away. Feelings were messy and a little alien; an uncharted and unstable land that had never been explored beyond the grudging acknowledgment that it was there, alright. 

Before Roland could figure what to say or how to react - and he wasn’t making much progress on that front -, Brick kept talking.

“I knew it was my fault. Back in New Haven. When I saw Lilith, I…” Brick shuffled his feet. “I saw her and I got why you just wanted to leave. And Mordy wasn’t there.” He rubbed the back of his head, forceful and angry. “I got mad at you ‘cause it was easy. I got mad ‘cause you should have taken him and not me.”

Roland blinked. “What?”

“You should have gotten _him_ out,” Brick said again, looking at him in the eye. “Not me. He was the one who listened to you; he wanted to leave. I didn’t.” He looked away. “You should have just left me there and gotten him out.”

If Roland was entirely honest, there had been moments in the past six months when he’d wished he’d done just that. While Mordecai would have also hated his guts, he was always easier to reason with and easier to deal with than Brick. Roland knew more or less how to talk to Mordecai, how to get to him or keep him in line, but Brick had always been out of his reach. Brick always only did what he wanted. He was a good friend when he wanted to be, yes, but he didn’t follow anyone’s directions but his own.

Well, no one’s directions except Mordecai’s. Roland, though, had never had an ounce of power over Brick, and he knew it.

But that was a selfish way of thinking. It wasn’t like Roland wished anything had happened to Brick either.

“If I could have gotten both of you out, I would have,” Roland said. “As it was, it was either you or no one, and that wasn’t an option.” Brick narrowed his eyes a little but didn’t say anything. “I don’t know what else to tell you, Brick. It was what it was, and I did what I could with what I had.”

Brick rubbed his eyes with the heel of a hand. “I know. It’s not you I’m mad at.”

Roland looked away. Tears made him feel awkward, even if there weren’t many of them. He gave Brick a moment to compose himself before speaking again.

“You think we can finally get past this?”

Brick shrugged. “Yeah. Sure.”

Roland sighed internally. “Brick -”

“Yes, we can. I’m not mad at you anymore,” Brick cut him off. “But I’m not feeling like huggin’ it out right now.”

Roland smiled. He had no objections on not hugging it out. “No, that’s - that’s alright. I just hope we can stop arguing all the time. Be on the same side again.”

“Sure,” Brick said again. “Look, no offense but I'm going home now. We can keep sorting this out tomorrow.”

“Yeah, of course,” Roland said immediately, somewhat relieved. He’d also had enough of this for one day, and now that the big issue seemed to be behind them, he could use some peace and quiet.

Brick stepped closer and stretched out a hand. Roland watched him in surprise for a second, but then he smiled and shook Brick’s hand.

* * *

Brick had shaken off the worst of his mood by the time he got back home. Talking to Roland had been exhausting on several levels, as it was bound to be, but it was done now.

Dusty welcomed him back home with her usual racket and Brick picked her up with a smile. He could always count on his dog to lift up his spirits. Brick scratched behind Dusty’s ears and threw her up in the air a couple times - carefully. Dusty received the attention with as much enthusiasm as always.

The light of the living room was on and Brick walked in still holding Dusty in his arms and cooing softly at her.

Mordecai was curled up, with both feet up on the couch, his head rolled back to stare at the ceiling. He didn’t look at Brick. The TV was on, but clearly only as white noise. The weariness that Brick felt around Mordecai lately crept over him - and he didn’t blame Mordecai, but it was hard to pretend it wasn’t there.

“Hey,” he said.

Mordecai closed his eyes, took a deep breath and raised his head. “Hey,” he replied, sounding about as exhausted as he looked.

Brick let Dusty back down, and he caught sight of the beer bottle on the side table next to Mordecai’s hand.

_Oh, fuck, no. Not this. Not this again._

If there was one thing that could come between them and break them apart, it was Mordecai’s drinking. Brick could take pretty much anything else they’d come across so far, but not that.

He’d tried. He’d actually kept his mouth shut and tried to ignore it for months in the hopes that it got better, or Mordecai stopped on his own, before he finally took Lilith’s advice to give Mordecai an ultimatum. _If he can't drink at all_ , she’d said, _then don’t give him a choice_. And it had worked, but it hadn’t been easy or pleasant, and Brick didn’t want to go through this again. Not on top of everything else.

“Mordy…” he said, staring at the bottle.

Mordecai waved a hand. “It’s tea.”

Brick’s eyes flickered up to Mordecai’s face. He grabbed the beer bottle - it was lukewarm - and took a sip from it. It was tea, alright. Really sweet, as Mordecai liked it, but without any trace of alcohol.

Brick looked at the bottle up close and realized it was one of the couple that were left from the time he’d been living alone while trying to find Mordecai. Drinking again, on his own, had ended up with him in a pitiful state and a truly awful hangover. Not a good memory.

“Why…?”

“Thought it would help,” Mordecai said with a shrug. Help with the craving, he meant.

Brick’s eyebrows rose. “Did it work?”

Mordecai snorted. “No. It’s worse, actually.”

That was what Brick would have expected. He left for the kitchen without a word. On the counter, by the usual pile of dirty dishes, he found an empty mug. Brick rinsed it, poured the tea into it and took the mug with him. On his way back to the living room, he threw the beer bottle into the trash.

Brick offered Mordecai the mug. “There.”

Mordecai accepted it and held it between his hands, staring at the mug with an odd expression. But he didn’t drink from it.

“I can heat it up,” Brick offered.

Mordecai looked at him with something fragile in his eyes. “No, it’s fine. Thank you.” He sipped the tea quietly.

Brick flopped down on the couch and heaved a deep sigh. Neither of them said anything for a while.

“Talked to Roland,” Brick eventually said, figuring he might as well mention it. “Like you said.”

“And? How’d that go?” Mordecai asked with faint annoyance.

Brick found a loose thread on the couch and pulled at it absently. “Good. Cleared some things out.” Mordecai watched him, as if waiting for more. “We’re fine.”

“Really? Just like that?”

“Well, no. But we’re gonna be. Probably.”

Mordecai quirked an eyebrow. “I still have no idea why the hell you couldn’t have fixed this before, but fine,” he muttered.

Brick pulled at the loose thread again until it snapped. “Yeah, we should have,” he said. He felt really stupid about the whole thing, so who was he to argue. Mordecai made a non-committal noise. “You know… I know I said it already, but you know I'm sorry about New Haven, right?”

Brick wasn't sure why he was bringing this up again. Maybe because he'd already reopened the wound when talking to Roland, and why not pick at it a little more.

“Yeah. I know.”

Brick rubbed his palms against his jeans. “I mean I’m… I’m _really_ sorry.” His eyes were prickling and welling up again, and Brick dried them distractedly. “I’m so sorry.”

He peeked at Mordecai, who seem startled. “I know,” he said. “It’s - It’s fine.”

“It’s not. I’m just…” Brick looked down and clenched his fists over his thighs.

Mordecai scooted closer. “Brick…”

Brick looked up again, his vision swimming through new unshed tears. “I’m sorry.”

Mordecai stared at him, his mouth hanging slightly open, and then reached out to cradle Brick’s head between his hands. “Hey,” he muttered, sounding almost scared.

Brick’s face crumpled. He took an unsteady breath and pulled Mordecai close, burying his face on the crook of Mordecai’s neck.

Mordecai slid shaky fingers over Brick’s head and down his neck. “Brick.” Brick only clung to him as close as he could without hurting him and tried to swallow down a sob. “Brick it’s fine. I’m not mad at you.” Brick shook his head but couldn’t get any words past the lump in his throat. “It was an accident. I’m not mad at you anymore.”

Mordecai’s voice wavered near the end. Brick took a few steadying breaths and raised his head again.

“It wasn’t, it was my fault,” he said, and touched Mordecai’s face, ran his thumb over Mordecai’s cheek. “I knew I’d screwed up, and I needed to find you. I needed to fix it.”

Mordecai stared at him, wide eyed and overwhelmed. “I...”

“Took me so long,” Brick added. A few more tears ran down his face, but he barely even noticed. “I didn’t know what to do.”

That had been the worst part of his talk with Roland, really - the thought that he could have found Mordecai sooner if he’d just accepted Roland’s help. If he’d asked for Roland’s help.

Mordecai wiped the tears from Brick’s face and looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t figure out what it was. Brick took one of his wrists and kissed the palm of Mordecai’s hand.

“Stop it,” Mordecai said, though surprisingly gentle. “It was an accident.”

“I’m sorry.” Brick had been carrying his guilt with him for months, simmering underneath his anger and desperation, and it had all been brought to the surface where it could only pour out.

Mordecai shook his head and wrapped his arms around Brick. “Shut up. What do you want me to say? That I forgive you? I do.”

“No, you don’t.” Mordecai wasn’t good at forgiving or forgetting, Brick knew that well enough. “And I can’t make it right.”

Mordecai made a frustrated sound. “Yes, you can. You are. You’re trying, I _know_ , I can _see_ it. I’m the one who can’t… I’m the one who’s not trying.”

Brick pulled away and looked at him, but Mordecai didn’t meet his eyes.

“I’m screwed up, alright?” Mordecai added quickly. “We both know that. But now I’m - now I’m just broken. And I know you’re trying, but I can’t… I don’t know, I just can’t sometimes. It’s not your fault, it’s just who I am.”

“What are you talking about?”

Mordecai made a vague gesture. “Just… everything. You’re trying to get me to leave the city sometimes, to feel better, and I just - I know you’re right, but I still can’t fucking do it. I sleep like shit. I’m always tired. And it sucks, ‘cause you’re stuck with me.”

Brick wasn’t a stranger to Mordecai’s self-hatred, but this had come out of left field for him.

“Hey, stop.”

Mordecai ignored him. “If you’re ever gonna leave me, it’s now. And I don’t want you to stay with me ‘cause you feel guilty.”

“That’s not what I was tryin’ to get at,” Brick said slowly.

Mordecai shrugged. “I know. It’s something I’ve been thinking about.”

Mordecai was still refusing to look at him, so Brick pressed his forehead against the side of his head. “I’m not leaving you. I don’t want to.”

“Why not?” Mordecai asked with a small, bitter chuckle.

“‘Cause I love you. ‘Cause I love what we have.” Mordecai opened his mouth, probably to say something self-deprecating or sarcastic, so Brick cut in. “Don't do that. Don't try to tell me I'm wrong or lying just ‘cause you don't like yourself right now.”

He knew that game already, how Mordecai would make scathing comments about himself, and how there was simply no answer he liked - reassurances, dismissal, questions - because deep down all Mordecai wanted was for Brick to agree that he was a terrible person.

He'd been doing less and less of those in the months before New Haven had fallen, but old habits die hard.

Mordecai took a deep breath. “I really don't deserve you.”

“I said ‘don't’.”

Mordecai nodded. He scooted closer and tucked his head under Brick’s chin. Brick hugged him close.

“Love you,” Mordecai said, which was a much better reply. He took one of Brick’s hands between his. “But stop beating yourself up about New Haven.”

Brick snorted. “I don't think I can.”

Not entirely, at least. He'd kept the biggest portion of his guilt bottled up so far, too busy with what he was doing to face it entirely. This outburst had been a long time coming - months, really. And he didn't think he'd ever fully expressed to Mordecai just how regretful he really was. But now it was out there, and that alone made it better.

“I was mad. I'm not anymore,” Mordecai said. And Brick didn't think he was lying - not in that moment, at least. It would probably still come out again at some point.

Brick kissed the top of his head. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment if you liked this! They make my day :3c


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